Sex and the City
by CJSeaborn1800
Summary: Erik wakes up in NYC the times have changed but love is just as hard. Season Two is up now!
1. Chapter 1

Once upon a time…in the glittering city of Paris…

He thought he had it bad, really bad. What more could possibly go wrong? he had lost the love of his life, and in so doing he had lost everything else as well. Such is love. As he ran through the streets that night, trying to escape that angry cries of the now displaced Paris Opera workers, he thought about how much easier his live would have been if he had just been born in a different time…in a different place…

As he ran, his foot slipped on the flagstone and he fell forward, slamming his already hurt face into the ground. He remembered nothing more that night.

The gypsy smiled down at the unconscious form. He knew what it was this man wanted; another life. And who deserved it more? This man had been denied what would have been considered a life; but he was going to be given a second chance.

He told me later he work up in a bed, a bed he knew was not his own because it was much more comfortable than anything he had ever experienced. He said as he opened his eyes sun hit him in the face and that was when he knew he was not anywhere he recognized. He had lived underground, far from the sun.

I did not meet him until later that morning. I was late, as always. I had been out late the night before, the New York City night life was not to be missed, even if you had an early meeting the next day. I had rolled out of bed, poured my over worked, over partied body into the shower, cursing my friend Rebecca for keeping me out so late. Well, I thought as I shampooed, I could not really blame her; I had wanted to go out. There was a man there, name unimportant, and I had arraigned to meet him there. He had never showed. Bastard.

I ran out into the hallway, hopping as I slipped on my manolo blahnik strappy sandals, and I ran right into him.

"Oh…God, sorry," I said hastily, still fighting with me shoe, and then I looked up to see who I had bumped into. He was the strangest man I had ever seen. He must have been new in the building. He was incredibly tall, dark hair, and green blue eyes. And there was something wrong with one side of his face; years of etiquette told me not to stare but I could hardly help it,

He said noting back and I wondered why. He looked to be about thirty nine; a good age, well dressed in what appeared to be a vintage tuxedo shirt and pants, and no wedding ring. Some may think it is a bit odd to always scan the ring finger, I say, don't judge.

"Um…I…," he looked bewildered, as though he had just seen a ghost, and I could not stay and chat, I was late,

"Nice meeting you!" I yelled back to him, although we had not really met and I ran down to the busy street outside.

He told me later that his fist day in New York City was the most bewildering he had ever experienced. He went outside and nearly fainted when he saw all the people and the way they were dressed and the tall towering skyscrapers. He told me he walked all over, getting lost and being shocked at all the things which had just been a twinkle in inventors eyes when he had last seen them.

He was sitting outside our building when I returned home from the firm where I worked. I was not in a good mood; the meeting had gone very well, in fact work was fine, it was the toxic bachelor Robert Coolidge, the bastard who had stood me up the night before.

Robert was about forty two and an investment broker. He had come to my office to apologize, but it was not so much an apology as an invitation for me to come to his apartment later that night.

He had shared a cab with me and had been getting on my last nerve all the way from my office, and I was thinking desperately for an excuse to make him leave when I saw him.

"I'm sorry Rob, but I made other plans for the night," I said, hoping he would play along,

"Plans with who?" Robert asked skeptically,

"Hey," I walked to my newest friend and put my arm through his, "Are you ready to go?" and I said a silent prayer he would understand,

He did not say anything but he let me lead him to the curb where I called a cab,

"Thank you," I muttered as we got in, "Dinner is on me,"

"There is nothing on you," he said, and I sighed, there really were no good men in the city, or so I thought.


	2. the prince

The first cab ride I shared with him was not the fairy tale meeting a woman in my position would have desired. It seems that no matter how many times we have our delusions about happily ever after shattered we have this inexplicable tendency to still expect the handsome prince instead of the wolf in man's clothing.

However, he was quite unlike any man I had ever seen, and having lived in New York City since I was twenty three, I have seen a lot of men. He sat quietly, staring at the tall buildings and glittering signs and throngs of people which flew past the window.

I played with the hem of my channel skirt suit and tried to make conversation, "It this your first time in the city?" I asked him. When he had spoken he sounded foreign, French I thought,

"What city is this?" he asked in a dazed sounding voice,

I bit my lip and ran a hand through my hair; what had I gotten myself into? I thought he had to be either on drugs or have the worst case of jet lag in the history of the red eye, "This is New York," I said slowly, and then I had a thought,

"We don't have to go out to dinner, if you had other plans or something," I thought I sounded kind enough and not as thought I was making a desperate run for the back door out of my situation, "I can just have the cab circle around,"

For a moment I thought he was not going to respond, then he said slowly, "I want to eat," I raised my eyebrows, but not so much that he would notice,

"Alright then," damn, I thought, locked in.

Then came the problem of where we would go. It was still early, not yet seven o'clock, so it would not be too difficult to get in somewhere. I had the cab take us to a small two level place I knew called The Three Guys. The cab stopped and we got out; I threw the fair at the driver and the yellow cab tore away.

It was true that is was not quite the dinner hour, but there was still going to be a wait; about thirty minutes, the host told us, and I saw him glance nervously at my new friend, who I realized I had not even introduced myself to yet.

We waited outside, and in the awkward moment I decided to light my cigarette; but it did no good to alleviate the situation, so I tried something else,

"Thank you for playing along with this, I know it is silly and I never, ever do things like this but I desperately needed to get away from that guy," I blew smoke into the air, hoping he would say something; and of course he did not,

"My name is Olivia Moss, by the way," I said, and I wondered if I sounded as stupid as I thought I did, and I extended me hand for him to shake,

"Erik…Duval," he said, and instead of shaking it, he did something so unheard of in New York I had thought it was nothing more than a myth; he kissed my hand.

As a firm believer in the idea that romance had gotten a corporate job and a suit, I was unsure of his angle. But as I surveyed him I did not detect that strange vibe sent off by men who are trying to hard to be romantic. It seemed he really and truly believed that that was what he was supposed to do.

There was no further room for speculation at that moment however because the host came out to us,

"I am sorry, but I have to ask you two to leave," he said bluntly, and I stared back at him,

"Why the hell do we have to leave?" I was not happy, I had had enough harassment for one day and I just wanted to eat,

"The manager feels that…well…" and he looked over at Erik Duval,

"Is it because of the way he looks?" I said indignantly,

"Well, yes; he is freighting some of the people who are already eating,"

"Well fuck them!" I said, "Let me tell you; I can make you have a very very bad day if I feel like it; I work at a law firm, and I can slap this place with a law suit if you discriminate against my friend here; not only that, I know a guy down at the health department who can give this place an inspection Buckingham Palace could not pass; so think hard before you kick us out of here,"

The man quickly reconsidered.


	3. Blond, Rich, and young

The host turned to lead us to a table, and I was about to enter behind him when I realized that due to the fact that certain self important people don't want lung cancer I had to put out my cigarette.

I turned back to the door to see another sight out of a fairy tale or an old movie; he was holding the door open for me; waiting for me to enter before him. I looked at him suspiciously as I walked through the door frame. What was this guy's deal? He had hardly said two words to me but he was treating me like a hopeless romantic would treat his girlfriend. Did he think he could substitute strange acts of chivalry for actual conversation?

We sat down at a table for two in the back corner of the restaurant; which was fine with me because all I really wanted was to eat. Actually, in any other circumstance this might have been romantic, but not with him. With him it was awkward.

The host left us menus and I quickly took mine up; glad to have a distraction. However, the thin barrier of laminated paper was no match for his piercing gaze. I quickly looked up at him and then down again at my menu.

God, what the hell was I doing? I was a grown woman, not a sixth grader flirting with a boy in the cafeteria.

"Do you know what you are ordering already?" I asked, glancing at his untouched menu.

"No," he said, and he stared at me like I had two heads. I tried to ignore him and looked back down at the menu but it was impossible.

"So…Erik?" he nodded; I knew that was his name but it seemed like the thing to say anyway, "When did you get to New York?"

He still stared at me, "Why do you wear your hair that way?' he asked bluntly, and I immediately raised my hand to my shoulder length blond hair; what the hell was this guy talking about? My hair was stylish, or at least it should be for how much I paid to get it cut; it was layered, parted on the side and immaculately straightened.

"Excuse me?" I asked irritated, "There is nothing wrong with my hair, and even if there was I don't think you should be one to judge," he had some kind of slicked back look going on with these crazy sideburns; not a good idea fashion wise.

He looked away from me for the first time and I wondered if I had said something harsh; no I hadn't! He had attacked me first…or maybe I had, perhaps he was not yet familiar with New York charm?

And then it hit me. I felt like I had been in an elevator which had just dropped ten floors. I could not believe I had missed it before as it had been a favorite pastime of the girls and me; spotting hair pieces.

His hair was not real, there must have been something wrong with him, probably the same reason the one side of his face was so disfigured.

There was an awkward pause and the waiter came over.

"Are you ready to order?" and by the tone of his voice he really wanted up to hurry up so we could leave.

"No," I said quickly.

"Could you please try to be timely? We have a lot of people waiting and…"

"Seriously, Buckingham Palace," I threatened, and the waiter hurried away.

"I only asked because where I come from women all where their hair long," he said this unexpectedly, and it was the largest sentence he had uttered all night.

I should have rewarded his effort with something civil, but it seemed I was not in the mood.

"Where are you from? The nineteenth century?" I said sarcastically, and had I know more I would have realized the irony of the situation.

"I don't think your hair looks bad, I just wanted to know why you wear it that way," He said, and for the first time he sounded more than apathetic.

"Well…I wear it this way because it is easier to take care of,"

"Why do you wear those shoes?" He asked; apparently he had had enough of just observing his new world and now he wanted some answers.

"Because I am a masochist," I said immediately, rubbing my sore feet under the table; he just stared at me, "Because I like the way they look,"

"But they hurt your feet?"

"That's right,"

"And you still wear them?"

"Correct,"

He looked perplexed and I had to laugh; men had been trying to understand the love between a woman and her shoes for years; no one ever got it.

"So really, what brings you to New York?" I asked him, "New job? Adventurous sprit? Political asylum?" my gut suddenly clenched as I thought about what I would do if he answered political asylum.

"I don't know why I am here," he said, and since I did not know anything to the contrary, I thought he was one of those damn 'what is the meaning of life' people, and then I understood; the blank, sad look, the listless way of speaking…

"Broken heart?" I asked knowingly, and then he stared at me for a moment; then he nodded.

People are always telling you those frightening statistics, like every four seconds some one dies, or every twelve seconds someone gets hit by a car, or someone's house burns down or something. I have a theory that every minute, someone's heart gets broken.

"So tell me about her," I said, I was sure that he would at least want to vent about the woman who had caused him pain, and that could break the awkward tension between us.

"You want me to…tell you about her?" He asked confused; men are not as used to going over every detail of their failed relationships as women are.

"Yes, what did the bitch do?" I asked, taking a bit out of a roll on the table.

"She, well she…" He began uncertainly, and then he plunged on, "She left me for another man,"

I nodded, "Were you married?"

"Well, not really, we were…engaged, sort of,"

"The same thing happened to me," I said, which it had, in fact I think the same thing had happened to everyone, "Let me guess, she left you for someone younger with more money and blond hair?" Man or woman, when they leave you, it is for someone younger, with more money and blond hair.

"How the hell did you know?" He stared at me amazed.

I laughed "Classic modern fairy tale," I leaned forward, "Let me tell you a secret," I whispered, "Romance is dead,"

The waiter came back again and this time we were ready to order. After he hurried off to no doubt rush our dinner so we would leave, there was a brief pause in which I sipped water out of the glass on the table.

"Did you say the same thing had happened to you?" He asked me suddenly.

I nodded, "I was seeing this guy for five years, we get engaged, and then two weeks before the wedding he runs off to Hawaii with his secretary," I could barley retell this story without throwing something, and even now, after three years of friend therapy I still wanted to hurl my water glass into the wall a little bit.

"Why would someone leave you?" he asked, and again he somehow managed to avoid sounding trite when he said this.

"Because she was young, and platinum blond, and from a rich family, and had a body like a model," I said bitterly, wondering where that damn waiter was so I could order a chardonnay.

"But…_you_ are young…and blond, and you seem rich; I don't really know what a model is, but if it means you look beautiful than you look like a model,"

Only this man, only this strange man could say that and not sound like a New York sleaze. Something about him, the sad, pitiful look in his eyes that suggested he did not quite understand love, made me think; damn.


	4. Brave New World

Food came at last; not the best, not the worst, just something to eat. Silence ensued again as we ate. I hated awkward silence, and this was the epitome of awkward silence.

"So what to you do? For a job I mean?" I asked at last.

"I…well, I write music," he said, and then a dark look came over his face, "Of course, I used to write music for _her_, so I don't think I will be doing that anymore,"

"If you really love writing music, you should not give it up just because she was a bitch," I said between bites of salad, "You should never sacrifice your career for a lover," I was a firm believer that while he can break up with you for any reason at any time, your job you can always keep; if you don't screw up.

"I started writing music for her anyway; I think if I just try to forget about it; that would be best," He looked off into space. If I had known at that moment what he was going through I would have bought him a bottle of wine then and there. In a new time, far away from everything he had ever known, heart still reeling from breaking, head still reeling from waking up in this brave new world.

"I tried that; just block out everything about the past," I picked at my food with my fork, "It does not work as well as you would like; you end up remembering and throwing a fit anyway; the best remedy for a broken heart will always be a drunken night with your friends,"

"And if you don't have any friends?" he asked; Crap, I thought, now what do I say?

"Family works to," please let him have family, I thought.

"And if you don't have that either?" Crap.

"Well some time I will just have to take you out and get you drunk," Crap, crap crap!

"You are lying aren't you!" he said, staring at my uncomfortable expression, "I know that look! You feel bad for me, so you say you will do something you really don't want to do, and something you will try your hardest to get out of!" He understood better than I thought. Crap.

"I don't want you to do anything you don't really want to do," Where had I hear that before?

"All I want is this one favor; I have never been…here…before; I don't know where anything is, so if you could just show me around?"

Suddenly I felt like I was seeing behind a magic trick; had his whole lost, heartbroken appearance been an illusion? A clever ploy to get me to go out with him again? Of course it was not, but I am a foolish, cynical skeptic, what was I supposed to think?

"Um…I don't know, I am pretty busy," I said,

He looked like he was about to say something, then he changed his mind, "fine," he said simply, and it looked as though he was mentally kicking himself. I could not stand the look of rejection.

"Alright," I agreed, "I can show you the sights, what do you want to see?"

He brightened considerably, "I do not know," he said then, "You live here, what should I see?"

I sighed, what shouldn't you see in New York?

It was dusk outside, and I thought we might as well get started. We left the restaurant; I did not leave a good tip.

I had a cab take us down through Time Square; he stared out the window amazed. He insisted that we get out of the cab and walk around. Every neon sign and every loud noise was amazing to him.

It was actually kind of fun; most people in New York were jaded and walked past every landmark and modern marvel without giving anything a second thought; but not him.

To him it was all amazing, and I could not help but get caught up in his enthusiasm for the scenes around us. The sun sank and we were still wondering around. I told him every detail I could think of about the city; it was strange to have such an attentive listener.

Everything was going fine; he turned out to be quite smart, if not confused, and sardonic, which I find entertaining, and after stopping in several places for drinks, he did not look so bad.

True to New York fashion, the moment when I was actually beginning to relax around my strange new friend was the moment I saw _him_. We were walking out of a trendy new New York bar, and there he was.

Mark Berry; my ex. He was standing outside the bar; on his arm was the young, rich, blond who he had left me for. My heart, which I had thought was back together, began splitting apart as I watched the man I had thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with kiss another woman.

And he was going to see me. I could not let him see me, not when I had still not moved past him and I had just been stood up the night before. That was not the way I wanted him to see me. I wanted to flaunt my own winning relationship in his face and show him I did not care for him anymore and that he had not hurt me.

That, and the cosmopolitans I had been drinking all night, was why I did it. Mark was about to turn to look at me and I just grabbed him; I pulled him close to me and prayed he would understand as I pressed my lips to his. My mind was buzzing; I was kissing a stranger in the middle of the street so I could avoid my old boyfriend.

And then there was the actual kiss. He was shocked to say the least. Slowly he wrapped his arms around me. Most men would have taken full advantage of the situation, going in with the tongue and letting the hand travel down my backside; but he did not. He hardly touched me, but he was very sweet.

He actually felt quite good, and I found myself getting carried away. I blame all the other men in New York for this kiss; if I had not been so starved for affection I might not have been so comfortable with making out with a man I had only known for a day.

I saw my ex walk past us; only looking for a moment at what he had thought were two lovers. Even though they were gone, I held on to him a moment longer. I finally drew away; his arms had barley been holding me and as I pulled back he let them fall to his side. The poor man, I must have confused the hell out of him.

"I am so sorry…again," I said, realizing that was the second time that day I had used him to get out of an uncomfortable situation with a man, "That man that just walked by," I pointed, "He is my ex, and I just couldn't face him," God I sounded pathetic.

"I don't understand you at all," Erik said to me, "Why did you do that?"

"I didn't want to talk to him, and it was the first thing that came to mind," I confessed.

"You stopped seeing him three years ago and you still feel heartbroken when you see him?" he asked, no doubt thinking that if I was still not over my ex, how could he ever get over Christine?

I nodded, "Hurts like hell every time I think about him,"

"There is no hope for any of us then," he said, and I snorted.

"Now you are beginning to develop the sense of pessimism which is vital to every New Yorker," I got a cap, "Welcome to the brave new world,"


	5. Cry a little, eat too much

_Note to all: if anyone here has never seen the show Sex and the City, first of all you have to because it is amazing! Second, if you have never see the show let me explain, the narrator kind of takes on both the first and the third person voice. If this is confusing I am sorry, but please just go with it an I will try not to write to weird…also I love people who review…and only people who review…no, just kidding…alright, I will shut up and get on with it! _

I had one more place I wanted to go to; I had not really been thinking of going there until the disaster with Mark; now I wanted to clear my head. We were silent in the cab; both feeling quite awkward after my random display of fake affection.

When the cab let us out he finally spoke, "what are we doing?"

"Going up," I said, and I led him inside. Going up to the top of the Empire State Building was a tourist favorite in New York, and I did not think he would object. I paid for our tickets; truth be told Erik was quite an expensive date, and we waited for our turn in the elevator. I glanced over at him when we were on our way up; he was looking quite sad and confused, but there was a hint of anger in his face as well. I could not blame him; I had been toying with him all day, not to mention he was not over his own ex.

The other passengers in the elevator, not that there were many, tried as best they could to keep away from Erik due to the strange way he looked. I glared at the one girl who seemed the most taken aback by him; a thin little blond who spoke with an English accent. I did not see who she was to judge anyone; she was wearing a scrunchy in her hair.

"What is this place?" Erik whispered to me finally, but we were almost outside,

"Just wait and see," I said, and I opened a door and led him outside.

I heard him gasp beside me as the thousands of lights that made New York City appeared below us.

"This is incredible," Erik breathed, staring out into the bright night,

It was incredible; to gaze down at the lights of New York at night is to seen an earthen bound field of stars,

"I know; the first time I came to New York, when I was fifteen, I came up here with my family and when I saw this, I knew this was where I wanted to live," I said, getting overly sentimental,

"I cannot believe man built all this," Erik said, stunned,

"Beautiful isn't it?" I smiled at him impressed expression, "I come up here sometimes, just when I need perspective; I always said I wanted to my boyfriend to propose to me up here," I have no idea why I said this,

"Did he?" Erik asked,

"No," I said, looking out into the night, "He proposed in Paris; which was wonderful; he took me to a show, and then out to dinner, and then as we were walking home he popped the question," I sighed as I remembered, "That ass hole," I muttered,

We stood silent for some time, just looking. I think Erik must have felt as though his mind has just been sent through a ringer; he was seeing a sight grander and more spectacular than he had ever dreamed possible. And as he looked at the lights he wondered; could he handle this change? Maybe he could. With all the people in this city, and all the new opportunities, maybe he could forget his past, and find someone like him in the world, some one who was…

"Do you think I am a freak?" he asked me suddenly,

"All men are freaks," I said automatically, "But if you really think about it, I guess all women are freaks too, in fact I think there is something seriously wrong with each and ever one of us," I was feeling a bit philosophical all of a sudden and I lit another cigarette, "But if you really _really_ want to think about it; what is normal anyway?

"Not me," Erik said, "Normal people don't look like this,"

What could I say? He had a point. Normal people did not look like that. Still, I wasn't going to _tell_ him that. I had to say something else, and quick because the longer his comment hung in the air the closer it got to passing into truth because I did not refute it. But he beat me to answering,

"You see, I am right, a person should not look like this; that was what Christine thought, and that is why she left me. If I looked like a normal man, none of this would have happened," I had never heard such self loathing; and I am a lawyer. We all struggle with self image issues; how else could you explain the yoga, gym memberships, and fat free sugar free ice cream? But this man, he had a problem you could not fix by running a mile each day or getting a hair cut like the rest of us could,

"It is why people hate me," he continued, and I was glad there was a fencing separating him from the city below, because he might have jumped,

"If I did not look like this I would not be along all the time," he said miserably, and I realized I had brought this on myself; I had been the one to rope him into coming to dinner, I had said I would show him around, I had dug the hole, but I was not ready to fall into it yet and let this whole evening go to hell.

"Now that is just not true," I said, blowing smoke out into the night air, "Look at me; I am all alone, believe me, most people find they are alone in this city and all they have to relay on is themselves,"

"What if you don't want to be alone?" he asked

"Join the club, and in the mean time, buy a dog," I replied sardonically,

"So you are all alone?" he probed,

"God, you don't have to say it like that," I had enough reminders in my life without the total stranger telling me I had no one special in my life; I kept in mind that he was a total stranger I had made out with on the street,

"But you are alone?"

"Yes,"

"And you are happy?"

"Most of the time," I said, and it gave me a good feeling to know that I was being sincere,

"And what about the rest of the time?" he asked,

I considered for a moment, "You cry a little; pay too much for shoes, eat a little too much ice cream, and then you go on with the rest of your life because you have to,"

I don't know what I said, but it seemed to have the affect I wanted because he lapsed into silence. If I could have read his mind at that moment, I would have known he had finally come to a conclusion that he could work off of; because before concluding that he was a monster and a freak with no soul did not seem to work very well to let him have a good life. What he came up with was simple; he was alone, but he was not alone in being alone.

We stood there for awhile, just watching the city below. Even thought the weather was improving as spring kicked into full gear, it was a chilly night and I shivered slightly. He noticed even this small motion on my part and he removed the evening jacket he had been wearing all night and draped it over my shoulders. Again I was struck; where had this guy come from? Was there something in the water in Paris that made man want to perform shows of chivalry which had closed in New York years ago?

Normally I would have refused the coat; I did not need a man to help keep me warm; I just wanted one. But this was different; he was not trying to pick me up, I was not on a date with him, nothing was calculated; he just thought I was cold.

"Come on," I said finally, "I really need to be getting back home,"

In the cab ride home I felt exhausted; we had been all over the place and I just wanted to go home, crawl under the covers, and sleep.

My door was finally in sight; now only one awkward thing remained; how were we going to say goodnight?"

This had not been a date, but I was not sure if I had changed the rules when I had kissed him or not. Before I could answer my own question he opened his door,

"Good night," he said simply, and then he entered his apartment and closed his door.

Well, I thought, at least that was not so awkward. I was inside before I realized that I was still wearing his coat. I had two options; I could go and return it to him at that second, or I could admit that he had inadvertently done the equivalent of a woman leaving her purse with a man to secure a call back. I set the coat on the back of a chair and fell into my bed.

As for Erik, he walked around his new home, still clueless as to how he had gotten there, and still wondering exactly where 'there' was. He felt tears rise in his eyes several times as he wondered aimlessly around. He thought of Christine and he wondered where in all this she was, and if she was happy, and why she had never been happy with him. Normal behavior for a heartbroken man.

In the kitchen he inspected the large, steel cabinet that was cold inside. Finding the freezer he looked at a carton, taking it out he read the side; it was the ice cream I had been talking about. He found a spoon, and then went into the spacious living room and pulled a chair over to the window. He sat, he cried a little into the ice cream, and he watched as the night slowly faded and the sun rose over New York City.


	6. Question

Ok here is my question to all…I have been thinking about this and I want other peoples opinions; and I won't update again until I get some feed back:) ok, should I bring Raoul and Christine into this fun NYC future or should I let the rot? Please please please tell me what you think!


	7. The Freudian Slip

_Thank you all who responded to my question! I know what I am going to do now, but if you have any other opinions I would still love to hear them! Thanks again and keep reviewing! Ok, on with the story….._

The Freudian Slip

The next morning came too early for my taste; I don't think I have had proper sleep since I came to New York. I raised my exhausted head off the pillow and forced myself to get ready. It was not until I looked at myself in the full length mirror in the bathroom that I realized I had fallen asleep in my clothes. I shook my head. I was out the door before I noticed his coat on the back of my chair. Damn.

I decided to go directly over to his door and give it back. That way I would have an out if I needed one; I had the excuse of having to go to work.

I rapped on his door; he answered almost immediately; looking as though he had not slept at all,

"Your coat," I handed him the garment; he stared at it for a moment,

"Thank you," he said slowly,

"I have to go, I am late for work," I said quickly, and I turned and walked quickly away,

Erik watched me go, no doubt believing by my abruptness I was angry with him, or that I simply did not want to see him again. And I didn't; well at least I did not care either way; he was just another man, another complication, another mistake. And plus, he looked kind of weird.

He closed the door and threw the coat down on the floor, not really caring where it landed. If he was honest with himself he had to admit he was no closer to understanding what was going on than he had been the day before.

Erik had been around the apartment hundreds of times; he had looked into the closets and noted that they were full of clothes he had never seen before. His whole apartment contained so many things of mystery; a passport, a wallet, a cell phone, a microwave, a TV; all of which he had little to no idea of how to use.

His first encounter with the new technological kind came that day around noon. He heard a noise coming from somewhere; a kind of ringing. He located the source of the noise and saw a light was flashing as well. He had heard about telephones, but this looked much different than the crude instruments of his former day. He took a guess at how to use it anyway,

Erik picked up the phone and waited,

"Hello?" he heard a woman's voice,

"Hello?" Erik repeated, amazed at the fact that he could communicate with someone this way,

"May I speak with Erik Duval?"

Wondering how this woman knew a name he had thought he had just made up, it took him a moment to respond, "Speaking," he said,

"Mr. Duval this is Karen Hegel, with Mont Building and Design, I am calling to confirm your interview with Mr. Mont, at nine o'clock this Monday?"

Erik felt a hundred questions fill his head, but all he said was,

"Yes, thank you,"

"We will see you Monday then," the woman said brightly, "Have a good weekend," and there was a click on the other end.

Erik put the phone back down; what was Mont Building and Design, and how had he gotten an interview there? And what day was it? And what time was it?

It was Friday night in New York. I was on my way to meet my three best friends; Rebecca, the girl who kept me out too late, Susan, the girl who never stayed out too late, and Jackie, the girl who kept us all in high fashion without to high a price due to her being an editor at VOGUE magazine.

I met them right after work; they were already seated in the crowded restaurant. I had had to stay late to finish a brief.

"There you are!" Rebecca shouted at me as I navigated around the tables full of people to get to them, "We were worried you had dropped off the face of the earth!"

"Why?" I said confused as I sat down,

"I tried calling you all last night; you never picked up," Rebecca smiled at me, "Did Robert finally show?"

"Oh yes; he came to my office last night and followed me all the way home," I shook my head, "I finally got him to leave me alone by saying I had dinner plans with someone else," I suddenly bit my lip, did I want to tell my friends that I had spent the pervious night playing tour guide to the guy I used as a make believe boyfriend to get me out of awkward situations with other men?

"So then what?" Rebecca prompted, "Why didn't you answer your cell?"

"I…went out," I said,

There was a general intake of breath around the table and everyone leaned closer,

"Went out with who?" Susan said

"The guy who just moved in next to me; it was his first night in New York," I confessed grudgingly,

"Ah…A New York virgin!" Rebecca said smiling wickedly, "Did you sleep with him?"

Jackie shook her head and smiled wryly, Susan looked scandalized, and I just laughed,

"I just met the guy!" I said,

"So," Rebecca spoke in a business like manner, "You could still have slept with him; gave him an exciting first night," she sipped her cosmopolitan,

"I am woman, not a welcome mat," I said,

"I think I read that on a sampler once," Jackie said sarcastically, and we all laughed again,

"Okay, so why didn't you sleep with him?" Rebecca persisted,

"She shouldn't have slept with him! She just met him!" Susan patted my arm, "Is he boyfriend material?" Susan had this idea that every new man we met could turn out to be 'the one'

"No," I said, "He is too wonderful-I mean weird," all my friends stared at me and I felt like slapping myself in the face, "He acts strange," I tried to explain, "he does weird things; like he held the door open for me, and he gave me his coat to wear,"

"Aww…that sounds sweet!" Susan exclaimed, "What is wrong with that?"

"Oh no, don't get involved with a man like that," Jackie warned me, sipping her red wine, "First he is holding open doors; then he is asking you to quit your job and buy a van,"

"That's not true!" Susan argued, "He could just be trying to be sweet,"

"No one is just trying to be sweet," Rebecca interjected, ""They are just trying to get laid or…get laid,"

"I think I saw that on a sampler somewhere," I said,

"So how old is he?" Susan pressed; determined to give this guy she did not know a chance,

"I don't know, thirty nine?" I guessed exasperated,

"Has he ever been married before?" Susan asked,

"Well actually; his fiancé left him," I said,

"Aw, that's so tragic!" Susan exclaimed, "It's like a romantic fairy tale! He came to New York brokenhearted, and then he met you,"

"And then he goes out and sleeps with all the other woman in the city," Rebecca tore down Susan's fantasy life, "Remember honey; there are no romantic fairy tales,"

"That's what I say, romance is dead," I continued, "This is a fairy tale meeting that will turn into a relationship,"

"Don't you mean this is not a fairy tale meeting that will turn into a relationship?" Jackie looked at me with her eyebrows raised,

"That is what I said," wasn't it?

"No, what you said was that it _was_ a fairy tale meeting that is going to turn into a relationship," Susan smiled at me, "You subconsciously like him!"

I sighed, "This is not high school Susan; if I _liked_ him, I would say so,"

"But you did say so! You Freudian slipped it!"

"I did not," I had certainly not done anything of the sort, but then I began to wonder; had I? I had just accidentally said I thought we could have a relationship, and the night before; I had seen Mark, the former object of my undying affection, but I had _kissed_ him, what did that mean?

And then my phone rang; I rummaged through my purse to find it; "Olivia Moss," I said hurriedly and everyone at the table stopped talking to listen to me,

"O-Olivia?" I recognized the voice immediately,

"Erik?" I was bewildered, "How did you get this number?"

"It was in your wallet,"

"How did you get my wallet?" I was stunned,

"It was in my coat pocket; I just found it, do you need it?" he was standing in his apartment and he had picked up the coat, found the wallet and gone through it. He did not know much, but by the way I had paid for everything the night before with the credit cards and the bills, he thought I might need the continents. He had found a slip of paper I had written my number on when I had first gotten my phone,

Did I need the it? Of course I needed it; I could not believe I had not noticed it was gone yet, "Well, yes, but I am not at home; I am at dinner,"

"Oh…well…where?"

I gave him the name and address of the restaurant and told him to get into a cab and bring it to me; I needed the money to pay for dinner; and even though I knew my friends would pay for me, I asked him to come any way.

"Who was that?" Rebecca asked,

I just stared at the cell phone, "It was him," I said slowly, "I must have gone to put my wallet in my purse, and put it in his coat pocket instead,"

"Wait…what did you do?" Rebecca looked at me confused,

I looked up, "Remember I said he let me wear his coat last night because I was cold? Well I gave it back to him this morning and I was in such a rush I must have accidentally slipped my wallet into his pocket instead of into my purse,"

"Accidentally on purpose!" Susan exclaimed, "You put your wallet into his pocket so you would have to go over and see him again, or he would have to bring it to you!" Susan smiled triumphantly, "You _do_ like him don't you!"

"No," I remained firm, but in my mind my position was slipping. I had enjoyed our night together; he had been heartbroken and solemn but at least he had not been jaded. He had been smart, God knows he had been polite, and at the end of the night he had not turned into an amoebae who's sole intent was getting through the door and into the bed; he was a find so rare it was like spotting a great dress at a discount price,

And I want to see him again; there was only one problem,

"Listen when he gets here, I have to warn you; one side of his face is really strange looking," I tried to explain,

"Strange like lazy eye strange or like elephant man strange?" Jackie said,

"Closer to the elephant man side of the spectrum," I said seriously

"Eww, really?" Susan shrieked; her fairy tale romance was shattered as the handsome prince became the ogre,

"Susan, are you twelve? You don't say 'eww,' and you have to be _nice_ to him," I said, and as I waited, my eyes on the door, I wondered what would happen because of my little wallet slip,


	8. The Concrete Jungle

Hey I just realized I forgot to mention some things at first, so I went back and re posted; Ok, for anyone who is reading; Olivia is not a character from Sex and the City, she is just really based on the character from the show; and let me remind all of you that the title of this story is Sex and the City, so expect sex, not to tawdry, but there none the less. And yes, I believe Erik would be quick to take up an offer of bed time fun; poor guy has been a virgin his whole life! As always thanks for reading and reviewing! Keep it up!

The Concrete Jungle

Erik ended the call. It had taken him all day, and quite a few random accidental calls to various listed Chinese takeout places to fully master the art of telephone-ary.

He had been picking up his coat from the floor when he realized it held something which was not his. Honestly, he had been glad to have a reason to talk to me, as he had spent the whole day alone and quite perplexed. He still did not understand so many things.

However now faced with the prospect of actually going out he felt quite skittish and wondered if he should not have been so hasty in calling me. He thought he knew enough to get to the restaurant, but now he was facing the prospect of going out into public alone where everyone would stare at him. He had gone out like this on the first day he had been in New York, but that had been different, he had been so stunned, how could he not go out?

This seemed like a much worse prospect that he was facing now, and what if he got lost? He could use my money to get to the restaurant; he felt bad about using it, but I had told him to come down to the meet me…

The other problem was that he had been wearing the same clothes for almost three days, and that was certainly not acceptable. He opened the closet; the rows of expensive men's clothing intimidated him. He had seen the people walking on the streets the day before and noted how unlike their mode of dress was to his; and as he had not been exposed to the wonders of modern media he had no idea how to dress.

He took a stab in the dark, and just grabbed something black. He had no idea he was playing into a classic rule; black is always _always_ in style. Erik changed in the room with the toilet; and to his horror he discovered he smelled like death; ironically not a smell foreign to the streets of New York.

Erik stared around the room; everything looked weird. The shining silver knobs meant nothing to him. He approached what he would later find out was the shower. Reaching out, he stepped into the vertical tailed chamber and turned one of the knobs. To his unpleasant surprise he got a stream of cold water on his head.

All this considered it was no surprise that we were nearly finished with dinner and he still had not come yet,

"God, Liv, you have been looking at the door every five minutes, he will come when he comes," Rebecca said

"Maybe he got lost;" Susan said worriedly, "New York is like a jungle if you don't know your way around,"

"I don't see how he could have," I said, checking my watch, "I told him were to go," but I knew there was a very good chance he was lost or turned around somewhere. Erik was not a native New Yorker; he was not familiar with the indigenous tribes; the hookers, the cult of crazed cab drivers, the pan handlers, the muggers…oh God what if he was getting mugged?

"Well, I have to go," Susan said, and a giddy smile came over her face, "I am meeting John for a late movie," John Grove was Susan's latest knight in shinning armor; he was a wealthy businessman with an expensive town house which Susan already thought of as her dream castle,

"I should go to," Jackie said, "Deadline looming," she stood and put money down on the table and patted my shoulder, "We will meet Mr. Wallet Slip some other time,"

"You are going to?" I asked Rebecca, who was standing as well,

"Yes, you see that waiter over there; I have been eyeing him all night and he just got off, so now I can take him back to my place and he can get…" Rebecca began,

"I don't think any of us here need you to finish that sentence," Jackie said wryly, "Night Liv,"

All three girls left money on the table and me sitting waiting for the man to come out of the jungle.

Erik was not having an easy time of it; he had spent fifteen minute figuring out how to work the shower, ten getting dressed, and then twenty working up his nerve to go outside. Once he made it out to the street; it took him fifteen more minutes to catch a cab. And then the cab took him to the wrong place, which he did not notice until the cab pulled away.

Half an hour later, he arrived at the front of the restaurant. The host greeted him,

"Ah, do you have a reservation?" he asked, and Erik noted that this man spoke in the same tone as the man at the restaurant the night before. He sighed; he was in a different time, but people were still the same species of mean when it came to him,

"My…friend is already inside," he said, hoping he would be admitted into the room beyond,

"I am sorry, but the restaurant is very full and…"

Erik stopped listening to what the man was saying and began to think; he had had this problem before, and he had seen how the problem had been solved; it stood to reason that it could be resolved it the same way. And so, Erik participated for the first time in a native New York City ritual; intimidating the hell out of the host to get a table,

"I said my friend is already inside; Olivia Moss," it was enough to use my name; I was a regular at this place and the host knew my job, and that I really did know someone at the health department,

"Oh! Ah…" the host said, but Erik was no longer listening to him; he was walking past him and into the restaurant; he had survived his first New York experience, getting in the door.

I saw him from across the room through the mess of other tables and waiters and groups of women going to the bathroom and I smiled; he saw me and came over,

"Well look who made it! I was beginning to think you were lost," I said, and I have to admit I was relieved; if I had been responsible for calling him out on a suicide mission in to the deepest dark of New York City I don't think I would have been able to live with myself,

He sat down next to me; for the second time in two days we were out to dinner; in any other situation this would have been a rapidly progressing relationship. I stared at hi for moment; impressed with his attire; quite New York for a non native.

Erik looked around the room; a panicked expression on his face, as though he did not belong,

"Did you bring my wallet?" I asked,

"Yes, here," he handed it to me,

"Thank you for brining it all the way down here," I put the wallet in my purse, "I hope it wasn't a big inconvenience,"

"I was not occupied," he said shortly, and by the way he was constantly looking around he still felt out of place; but then I wondered, where wouldn't he feel out of place?

"Are you hungry?" I asked, I was full but I thought it was rude to ask him to come all the way down here and then just make him leave with out eating,

"No," He responded, I was not aware of the fact that this man hardly ate anything; although I could have guessed it because he was very thin,

"Well then, let's get out of here," I said, standing and throwing money down on the tale. I led him outside,

"Where are we going?" he asked; I had planned on just going home, but than I realized he was expecting more, and I think I owed that to him. I had asked him to come to me, and besides, it was not as though I had some other, wonderful plans,

"It's a good night for a walk," I said; we began in silence, and I did all I could to break it,

"So, what did you do today?" I asked him,

Erik felt his stomach churn; he did not want to appear stupid or crazy in my eyes, and he figured that if he said, 'trying to figure out how to work the phone and the thing that shoots out water,' he would sound just that. So instead he said, "Nothing,"

Damn him; sometimes his responses were so short it was like talking to a wall, "You must have done something," I pressed,

"I have a job interview Monday," Erik said, remembering,

"Where?" good, I thought, get him talking…

Good, Erik thought, I can have her help me figure out where this place is, "Mont Building and Design,"

What he didn't know was that he had just named one of New York's top architectural firms, "I didn't know you were an architect; I thought you were a composer," I said,

"I do both," he said as we continued to walk down the street, glancing here and there at the various signs of another night in New York, "Do you know where Mont Building and Design is located?" he asked me,

"Actually yes," the place was not far from my own work, "We can chare a cab there on Monday," It occurred to me that I was being extremely nice to this man I hardly knew, but he had helped me first, and in everything we had done together he had been a perfect gentleman. I had attributed his good manners and tendency not to act like an ass hole to the fact that he had not been in the city long enough to adopt the traits of the native species of men.

Now, I don't mean to say that all men are jerks; just the one's I dated. The New York City social scene can be like a dangerous tropical jungle at times, and you need to be familiar with all the types of life to keep from getting poisoned or getting eaten alive. I did not see Erik as the type who would, in the end, leave you feeling as though you had just been mauled by a wild cat.

So we walked together, and gradually he became more relaxed; no one was staring at him, one because in the dark it was hard to see the marred side of his face, and two because really, no one passing on the street gave a damn.

"So where did you study architecture?" I asked him,

"In Rome," he responded,

"That must have been incredible," I said, "Do you speak Italian?"

"Not very well anymore," He said, "I am out of practice; I used to be better,"

We came to a street crossing, and he continued to walk although the light had not yet changed for us to go; I quickly pulled him back by the hand, "Watch it!" I said as I grabbed him by the wrist, and for reasons of my own, I kept my hand in his. He felt a little cold, but I attributed that to the slightly chilled night, and it quickly warmed in mine.

"I always wanted to go to Italy," I continued,

"Are you interested in architecture as well?" he asked me,

"No…shoes," I admitted, laughing slightly,

"All the beautiful things in Rome and all you care about are shoes?" He squeezed my hand,

"No…I hear the food is good to," for the first time he laughed; not a long, loud laugh, but a laugh none the less; and it was sweet.

There is really nothing quite like walking alone with someone you really like; you walk lighter, you smile more, and you don't notice how far out of your way you have gone until you realize you are kind of lost;

"I think we should head back," I said, "I don't think I know where I am anymore," the truth was I was talking about more than location; I did not know where I was with Erik; I liked him, he was different, he was sweet in an old world sort of way. I had known him for two days, it was a fairly short time, but…I felt…lonely sometimes. It was hard being all alone all the time.

We took a cab home, and he walked me to my door; well actually I was still holding his hand and I pulled him to my door. We stood awkwardly for a moment, and I felt my mind sinning. I could let him go and spend another night alone watching crap on late night TV or I could…

"Good night," he said, and he turned to go and I decided; I pulled him back to me, my back pressed to the door, and my lips pressed to his. Only this time it felt different; this time he kissed me back. He didn't just lightly touch me, he pressed hard against me, and he wrapped his hand around the back of my head and kissed me deeper.

What I didn't know was that this had been what Erik had always wanted, and had always been denied. Now, it was being offered to him, and he saw no reason to turn it down.

I blame passion for turning my head completely; and I figured, even if he did turn out to be just another toxic bachelor in the jungle, I was ready to risk it all over again. I broke our kiss briefly to unlock my door and let us both in. That night, unbeknownst to me Erik made love for the first time. What I did know was that a man had never made me feel better, and my other neighbor called twice to complain about the noise.

Afterward, he lay next to me for awhile, but then he started to get up to leave,

"You can stay here if you want to," I said,

"Do you want me to?" he asked, and for some reason he sounded like a beaten dog who was begging to come back inside,

"Yes," I smiled, "Come back,"

He did; and I slid up next to him. It was strange, for the first time in a long time I felt relaxed, and safe in the concrete jungle.


	9. The woman the witch and wardrobe

The Woman, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

I slept like a rock, but my bed mate did not have the same luck. He felt too confused in his mind to sleep, everything had happened so quickly. But he had wanted it to; after years of lonely nights and denied opportunities while everyone else around him enjoyed themselves. True, he had shied his whole life from physical contact, but that did not mean he did not want it. He had wanted this.

The question keeping him awake now was, was he in love with me? And the problem was he did not really know me, so he could not answer his own question. At last he slept; deciding that however it had happened, he had been sent to this new place, and he should try to change himself, and as Christine was now a world away, he could even _try_ to move past her.

I woke up to the sound of my phone going off. I scrambled out of the bed, wrapping a robe around me as I hurried to answer the phone; not wanting the sound to wake my guest,

"Hello?" I answered in a whisper; taking the phone into the other room,

"Liv!" Rebecca's voice greeted me, "Why are you whispering?" I could hardly think of a lie before she figured me out, "is someone there?"

"Well…" I said uncertainly,

"Is it wallet slip guy? Did you sleep with him last night?"

She was too good, so I gave up, "Yes, and he is asleep still and I don't want to wake him,"

"About time you slept with that guy!" Rebecca laughed,

"About time? I have only known him for two days!" I said,

"Well, you get back to him honey; I will call you later,"

I hung up the phone and went back into my bed room and stared at the man in my bed; in the morning light his face looked worse than ever and I noticed how pale his skin was. He was not the most attractive man I had ever seen, but could I penalize him for that? All our lives we are told not to judge by what is on the outside; and if I did, what kind of a woman would that make me?

I lay down beside him again, he stirred slightly and turned toward me,

"Is it morning?" he asked me,

"Yes," He may not have been the prettiest face to wake up next to, but he was sweet in a way I was not familiar with and that was something, "Are you hungry?" I asked him, thinking of the eggs I had bought, not because I usually cooked eggs, but because I simply thought I should always have some around,

"No," he said, and he leaned over and kissed me again. He felt he simply could not help doing so; after the wait of a life time he finally was able to have the opportunity of intimacy, and it would not be wasted,

We lay there for another hour, just resting against each other, watching a light rain trickle down outside, before I insisted that we get up, and I insisted on making eggs.

"I am famous for my scrambled eggs," I told him,

"Are you also famous for burning bacon?" Erik asked me, and I turned to see that the other specialty I had had planned for the morning was shooting steam,

"Shit!" I cried, and I turned down the frying pan and tried to flip the bacon, but I ended up shooting grease back into my face, "Can we go out?" I begged him,

He ended up laughing at me, "You don't cook much do you?"

"Nope," I said proudly, "And I don't plan to start,"

"Well than I had better learn," Erik said to me, and he stood next to me by the stove, "How do I use this thing?"

In the end, breakfast was bad and burnt, but making it left me elated. I never ate at my table, I always ate in the living room in front of the television and watched the news. I led him past the table,

"People don't eat at tables in New York?" he asked me as we bypassed the table,

"Not me," I said as we sat on the couch and I picked up the remote to turn on the news; Erik watched me with interest; so that was how you used the big black box…

Erik sat and watched the moving pictures in silence; it was amazing; absolutely fascinating,

"How does this work?" He asked me, too interested to care if it seemed like an odd question,

We were watching a report about Supreme Court Judge appointment, and so I obviously assumed he was asking me how _that_ worked, "Well, the president had to pick a nominee, then the nominee has to be approved by the Senate, and before that happened a Senate Judiciary Committee is formed…"

"No I mean this," he got up and touched the television, "How does this work?"

I stared at him for a moment, "You are asking me how the television _works_?"

"Yes; how does it work?"

"Well…" I realized that for a seemingly simple question I did not quite know the technical answer, "Give me a minute," I went over to my laptop and turned it on; I planned on looking up the definite answer to his question on line, but I ended up distracting him again as he came over to my side to see what I was doing,

"What…?" he just stared at the screen came to life,

"You haven't seen this kind of a laptop before?" I asked as I typed in his question and hit search,

Erik realized he was revealing too much of his inexperience; even he had an instinct to hide his flaws as much as he could, which was not an easy task for him, "No, I haven't," he watched as the computer did its thing,

"So you can ask it any question and it will find you the answer?" He asked, leaning over my shoulder,

"Well…yeah," I raised my eyebrow; he had to know how this worked,

Erik made a mental note, he had seen one of these laptops in his own apartment, and he wanted to try it out later,

"So here is your answer," I said, getting up to let him sit and read what I had found out on line,

"This is amazing," Erik said as he skimmed the passage,

I made a slight face; I had thought this un jaded thing he had going on was refreshing, but if he was going to be amazed by everything, even the television, than maybe I would get sick of it. Then I thought again; was I ready to write off a man just because he was interested in the world around him?

"So do you want to do something today?" I asked him,

"Oh…I don't…Ahh," he turned around to face me, "What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know," I said, sitting back down on the sofa and picking up my eggs, "Movie?"

Erik nodded, "Alright," although he did not know what a movie was,

"There is a movie about World War II I wanted to see, is that alright?" I asked him,

"Yes," although he did not know what World War II was,

"Good," I went to the front door and picked up my newspaper, "Alright, there is a showing at seven, and then we could go for dinner after?"

"Yes," he said; he had to be the most agreeable man about these things I had ever been with,

"Well then, I do have some work to do; if you want to go back to your apartment, I will come and get you when we have to leave,"

He mistook my saying that I had work to do for my meaning that I wanted him to leave; and he stood and made to go, "Erik!" I called and he turned back to face me, "You don't have to go yet," I went over and put my arms around him, "Stay a little longer,"

He did; we sat together on the couch and finished the news. It was an incredibly comfortable situation to sit in; I was curled up under his arm against his chest. With each passing moment I forgot more about my work and just wanted him to stay. Putting men before work was a no no to all working, independent women; however sometimes this is hard to remember.

Eventually Erik left, and I forced myself to sit down at my desk. As fascinating as litigation is to concentrate on, my mind kept drifting back to Erik; my strange new…what was he? Was he a boyfriend? Or was he going to be just a fling? The thing was, I had not had what I would consider a boyfriend in awhile; and I was sick of getting my hopes up only to have them dashed over and over again. As a woman in my position; the position of a hard working shoe loving thirty something, I was searching for love, but unfortunately under ever rock I overturned in the search I kept finding roaches and not romance.

I had to be careful with him; things had to move more slowly, a date here, a night there. And then I looked at the clock,

"Damn it, late again,"

I rapped on the door of Erik's apartment; he answered swiftly and to my surprise he was still in a bathrobe,

"Come in," he stepped back and I entered,

"I think you are going to have to find something else to wear," I teased him,

He half smiled at me, causing the features of his face to distort even further, "If you insist,"

I followed him to his room, on the way we passed his laptop and I saw he had been reading something about early construction of skyscrapers,

His closet was impressive, "Wow, a man with style, I'm impressed," I said as I looked through his clothes, "Oh…look at this suite! You should wear this on Monday!" I pulled out a black business suit and held it up to him, "This would look great,"

And then I realized; I was helping him make wardrobe choices after only knowing him for two days; too fast, "I'll…let you get dressed then," I said and I left his room,

I went to look at his computer again; he _was_ reading about skyscrapers; which made sense, seeing as he was an architect. I had never dated an architect before, and I had to admit it was an interesting job; I really hoped he would do well in his interview, if he worked near me than we could meet for lunch easily…and then I stopped again; I was thinking ahead too much. But I _really_ liked him…he had a presence I simply enjoyed. He felt real; and I felt a strange connection to him…

"Olivia?" the sound of him saying my name pulled me back to the moment,

"Ready to go?" I asked him, turning to face him; he looked ready; again he was dressed dark colors; dark jeans (he had noticed on other occasions that no one wore the black dress trousers he was used to) and a black sweater, "Do you own anything that is not black?" I teased him as we left the apartment,

"I believe I have a dark blue jacket somewhere," he responded seriously, and I laughed, and as we walked, after a moment of hesitation, Erik put his arm around me. He had seen this happen on the streets to, and his been wondering what would happen if he gave it a try. I did not pull away, which was a victory in his eyes. He wondered to himself if this was a new breed of woman he was dealing with, that could actually stand him.

Saturday night, and two New Yorkers were on the first real, official date, and what was more first date than dinner and a movie?

To my disappointment the movie I wanted to see was sold out, so we were forced to watch a romantic comedy. The only good thing about the whole experience was that Erik let me lean against his chest and rest my hand on his knee. To me the movie was crap, but to Erik it was like getting a lesson in the modern idea of love. And he wondered, was this the truth? Or was this just another form a spectacle, hiding its un reality with sparkles and glitter?

After the movie I made my opinions known, "That was the stupidest movie I have ever seen,"

"Really?" he asked me,

"Oh come on, you could not have enjoyed that," I said, "The plot was so unrealistic; all that crap about them being _destined_ to meet each other and they had to _save_ each other, it was so corny,"

"You don't believe people are _destined_ to meet?" he teased me in a slightly sarcastic voice,

"No," I said firmly, "Because then how do you explain all the jerks you meet? What, was I destined to meet them and get my heart pulverized?"

"Maybe they were not the ones you were _destined_ to meet," Erik said, but by the tone of his voice I could tell he was still joking with me,

"So what? When I meet the ass holes it is just bad luck, but when I meet the man I fall in love with it is destiny?"

"Maybe," and it sounded more like he was talking to himself than to me. What he was doing was having an epiphany; maybe Christine was not the only one for him, maybe that had just been bad luck or maybe it had had to happen to he could have the chance to meet…me.

"What are we Olivia?" he suddenly felt he had to know what I thought of him, before he went another step toward love and feeling he had to know if I was going to be there beside him,

"What do you mean?" I was thrown by his sudden question,

"Are we…how do you feel…about me?" he asked, stopping in the street and holding me by the shoulders,

I looked up into his eyes, they seemed frantic, desperate for an answer, "I like you…a lot," I said uncertainly, now realizing I did not quite know how I wanted to answer him, "I just don't want to move too quickly,"

"What does that mean?" he asked me, clearly not understanding what I was trying to say,

"It means…I like you," I said,

"And you _want_ to be with me?" He wanted to know if someone would actually chose to be with him,

"Yes," I said softly, and his face brightened slightly, "And…" I continued, "Is…do you feel the same way about me?"

"And then he kissed you?" Jackie said skeptically; it was Sunday afternoon and I was eating with the girls; it was our usual end of the weekend wrap up meeting where we shared all our misadventures for the past several nights, "Sounds like he was trying to avoid telling you something,"

"I think he was just being sweet," Susan insisted,

"I don't know," I shook my head, "I mean, he goes to all the trouble of making me say that we are dating, and that I like him a lot, so why didn't he say anything back?"

"Well, how was the rest of the night? Did you have good sex?" Rebecca, ever practical, asked me, and I nodded, "Than I don't see what the problem is,"

"The problem is I really like him; he's…interesting, and I feel a connection to him,"

"Maybe you love him," Susan said eagerly,

"Oh my God," Jackie said, and Rebecca rolled her eyes,

"Susan, as cute as that is, I have only known him for a few days, slow down on the love word," I said,

"No, no, it can happen," Susan insisted, "My friend said that the first time she saw her husband she knew instantly that he was the man she wanted to marry,"

"I think I am going to puke in my salad," Jackie said cynically,

Later that day I got to thinking; was there such a thing as love at first sight? Or did that simply exist in the world of fairy princesses and knights and wicked witches? I wasn't sure; so I went to what I was sure of; my work.

Monday morning came and Erik felt nervous; he had been so preoccupied with meeting me and catching up on one hundred and twenty four years of history he had not thought much about his impending interview. He was not sure he knew what to say and he was terrified of being laughed out of the office.

I did as much as I could to comfort him; I helped him pick out his clothes for that morning, and I took him to the office building,

"You are going to be fine, you are brilliant, just relax and call me when it is over," I said, kissing him lightly at the entrance to the building, "If this does not work out there are hundreds of jobs in the city, you will be fine,"

He nodded stoically, made to say something and then stopped. He took me in his arms for one long kiss in which I felt like he was a man going off to his doom in battle who was holding me for the last time, "I will see you after," he said, and he entered the building.

He felt his legs shake and his heart pound as he asked a man at the front desk were Mr. Mont's office was located. The man said it was on the top floor and Erik was glad I had showed him how to use an elevator.

When he reached the right floor, the doors opened and he was faced with another desk behind which a very pretty woman was seated,

"Are you Erik Duval?" she asked brightly,

"Yes," he spoke nervously,

"I am Karen Hegel, we spoke over the phone," she stood and shook his hand, blushing slightly as she did so, "You can have a seat; Mr. Mont will be with you shortly,

Erik felt to wound up to sit, so he began pacing the lobby, an old habit of his,

"Nervous?" Karen asked with a brilliant smile,

"A bit yes," Erik admitted,

"Are you new in New York?" she asked, twirling her blond hair around her finger

"Fairly new, yes," Erik did not understand why she was smiling at him the way she was; what he did not know was Armani suit guarantied instant flirt,

"Maybe I could show you around sometime," she said, and Erik just stared at her for a moment; she could not possibly be asking him out? And even if she was, he had no desire to go anywhere with her, because he was sure he was supposed to be with me,

A door opened suddenly and Mr. Mont appeared; a fifty something man who looked more like a forty something man, he smiled broadly at Erik,

"Mr. Duval?"

"Yes, that's me," he said quickly,

"Come on in; let's get started,"

Erik left the still smiling secretary and entered the office, a fresh wave of nervousness coming over him. The office was spacious and had large windows which offered a great view of the city,

"Well, Mr. Duval," Mont began,

"Call me Erik," more out of habit of being called Erik than anything else,

"Well Erik, we are very exited to have someone in here from Paris," Erik just nodded and smiled slightly,

Mont studied him; he took in the marred side of his face and gave a mental check against him; he would not be able to go out and meet with prospective clients very well with a face like that; he would have to be strictly design if they hired him, "Can I see you resume?"

Erik froze, "My…my what?"

"Oh! Maybe they call it something else where you come from; a list of what jobs you have had in the past, and where you earned your degree in architecture…" Mont watched as the bewildered look stayed on Erik's face, "You don't have a resume?"

"No," Erik said, "But I can tell you what I have done," He stopped suddenly; what could he say? All projects he had worked on were now quite old, and he had found that the country of Persia did not even exist anymore, and he had never gone to school…

"Well?" Mont waited,

"Um…I…" Erik worked to come up with something,

"I think we are done here," Mont said; he had the finest architects begging for jobs from him, he did not need to listen to this,

"Wait!" Erik did not want to give up with out a fight, "I know I sound like a lunatic and if I were you I would ask me to leave too, but just give me a chance; ask me to design something; anything, and I will do it, right now,"

Mont sighed, he supposed he could give him a chance, "Alright, if I wanted a new tower, what would you design?"

Erik though for a moment, he hoped he knew what he was doing; he had spent all his time not with me researching new types of buildings and he had quickly understood the concept of high rises and skyscrapers, and he thought he had an idea of how to design them better, "Can I used that pencil and paper?"

Mont handed him the small pan and pencil and watched as he Erik drew a small but detailed sketch. Mont sat stunned at Erik drew out what most now did on a computer and in moments he was looking at a very good plan for a tower,

"Some of the measurements are most likely a bit off," Erik said as he handed Mont the paper, "But with more time…"

"This is amazing," Mont breathed, staring at an almost perfect design, "Are you some kind of genius?"

"He really said that?" I asked Erik excitedly, we were sitting in a restaurant close by; it was my lunch break and he was happily telling me about his interview,

"Yes, and then he said I stared next Monday,"

"That's wonderful," I really was proud of him; I smiled, I was just…happy, because everything had gone well and we were together and laughing and…

"And I think the secretary asked me out on a date,"

And then my heart stopped beating; the _secretary_? The personal bane of my existence; how could he tell me that? He knew that I had had my heart broken once this way, what was he trying to say? Had Jackie been right? Had he not wanted me to say I had feelings for him because he did not feel very strongly about me?

I had been so ridiculous! Thinking that because he held a door for me he was my prince; believing in all that romantic crap Susan pushed about love at first sight. Well, I was not going to let him know that he had hurt me,

"You should go out with her," I said lightly,

"What?" he stopped eating,

"We are not that serious, you can see other people," I looked up at him for the first time since he had mentioned the secretary, and suddenly I felt like the witch in the fairly tale; the way he looked at me you would have thought I mortally wounded him.

Erik felt like I had killed him; he had thought we were serious, and he suddenly hated himself and all woman; they always tricked him into believing they truly cared for him before they showed their true witch color,

We did not speak for the rest of the day; and that night I found I could not sleep. I did not want to be the woman who ran back to a man because she though she needed him, but at one o'clock AM I decided that if I let him go because of this, I was not a weak woman, I was just a fool.

I banged on his door, realizing too late I should have just called him. He answered still wearing the suit form earlier,

"I didn't mean it," I said to his confused face, "I don't want you to go out with that other woman,"

"I don't want to either," Erik said,

"Well…" I now had nothing planned to say,

"You ran over here in you bed clothes?" Erik looked me up and down and laughed slightly; I had forgotten a robe and I was wearing a thin nightgown, "You had better come inside,"

I slept at his place that night. As I lay next to him I realized I was becoming addicted to his presence there, and I did want to be careful of becoming the woman who could not live with out her man. But I could be the woman who was happy with her boyfriend, and who helped him pick out his clothes, and I hoped the scary witch inside me stayed hidden…for good. And if not, I hoped a kiss would transform me back.


	10. Facing the facts

Hey everyone! Just a few things to say;

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, especially Barb who always says the sweetest things and tells me when I screw up my spelling! And by the way Barb, I was reading reviews for A Ghost's Shadow, and isn't that and Heart just about the best stories ever? Anyway; I don't know how many people have watched Sex and the City, but I just saw the episode where Carrie (the main character and the one Olivia is based on) goes to the opera and sees Big (her ex boyfriend) and then runs out of the show saying, "I knew I was being over dramatic, but I felt like I had just seen the Phantom of the Opera!" just a bit of fun information! And watch Sex and the City because it is brilliant! And please please review because I am addicted to reading reviews and they make me want to write more

Facing the Facts

A new relationship with a man you like is like buying a new pair of stunning shoes; you don't know how you got along before you had them, you can't stop looking at them in an adoring fashion, and you want to show them off…to everyone.

I was falling hard for the man next door. Erik and I seemed to click, mentally and physically. Over the next two weeks, we went on countless dates, met for lunch, and discussed everything we could think of.

I was not aware of it, but Erik was deftly wringing the story of the past he had missed from me; the invention of the airplanes, wars, scientific advancements, sports; my degree in history had never come in handier.

Erik found out even more about what he had missed through his own new discovery; the internet. He realized he narrowly missed World War I, and though he knew he would not have fought in it, he was glad to have not been there for it all the same.

History was not all we discussed either; we could talk about everything,

"So I had this dream last night, it was so strange," I began; Erik and I were seated outside at a café eating lunch one sunny Sunday,

"Stranger than the one with the pig people?" Erik asked me; I always had strange dreams, and he delighted in hearing them, and I loved that he loved to hear them,

"Yes! It was stranger than the one with the pig people; I was in this giant parking lot…and there were big stores all around me…"

"Was it a nightmare? Could you not actually get into any of the stores?" Erik teased me,

"No," I kicked him lightly under the small table, "All of a sudden I was being chased by a dinosaur that was trying to eat me,"

He laughed at me, nearly doubling over, "Erik! It was not funny!" I smiled, "I thought I was going to _die_!" It of course was funny and I was glad he was laughing,

"Of course it was frightening," Erik said, but he still laughed at me, "I just keep picturing you trying to run in those fifty feet high shoes you always wear,"

I smiled back at him; he knew me, he knew that even in a live or death chase situation, I would still be wearing my manolo blahnik heals.

He slept at my apartment most nights. As the weather grew hotter and hotter I found it appropriate to wear less and less to bed, something I knew for a fact Erik appreciated. After two weeks, I decided that there was no better feeling than his body lying peacefully against mine; his arm around me.

In fact, what I loved the most was this closeness; I loved it when he held me. In a world where it is vital to hold your own on your own all alone, it was nice sometimes to just think you _belong_ to someone.

I did not realize what it meant to him; after all the years of being totally alone, Erik now faced what was to him the most exciting prospect of his life; willingly, I wanted to be with him. After having the painful experience of having what he thought was his taken away from him, he had no desire for a repeat act. To him, holding me meant that I was his, and so he held me tightly whenever he could.

Everything was great in our relationship; we were happy, he could be a bit distant at times but I let that go, we had physical chemistry, and he was highly available, there was only one problem;

"It's his face," I told the girls over lunch on Wednesday,

"What about his face?" Jackie asked,

"Well…remember how I told you it looks…" I tried to speak tactfully,

"Hideous?" Rebecca suggested,

"No, no…it's not hideous," I bit my lip, "It's just…deformed; but I am fine with it, it's just everyone else always stares at us, and I really feel horrible about it…and sometimes they whisper when we walk by…it's just so humiliating,"

"Dump him," Rebecca said without a second thought, "You're a beautiful woman; you don't need to be with a less than perfect man,"

I shook my head, "I _don't_ want to dump him; in every other way he _is_ the perfect man, and I am happy with him; happier than I have been in a long time,"

"Still, Liv, you have to think about the future," Susan said, "After you get married and have kids, what if they look like him?"

"Wait a minute; are you saying all that maters are looks?" Jackie asked, and then she turned to me, "I don't think you should dump a good man because of the way he looks,"

"But if you don't even want to be seen in public with him," Rebecca shook her head, "That does not make for a good relationship,"

"Well I _can't_ break up with him," I said firmly, "I think I may actually be…" and then I stopped. It had been two weeks, and I had warned myself not to move to swiftly or expect too much, but I though I was feeling the beginnings of love; but I was not ready to say it out loud, "He really makes me happy,"

Susan stared at me and then a slow smile came across her face, "Your in love with him!" she exclaimed,

"No, no, don't use the L-word; it's a fact that as soon as you use it everything goes to hell…and…I don't want it to," I said,

"So you do love him?" Susan breathed,

"What did I _just_ say?" I rolled my eyes,

After lunch the question still nagged me; what was I going to do? At first it had not been a problem; I had thought that Erik and I would only go out several times, but the more I knew him the more I wanted to be with him. And the more we were out in public; the more I noticed that other people were staring and whispering at us. And the more I cared about him, the more I was hurt every time this happened.

I knew he had to notice as well, and I knew it had to bother him. I walked defiantly back to my office, my head held high; I had finally met a man I was really interested in and excited to be with, and I was not going to let some small minded people stand in my way.

One of the great things about New York is you can always get something delivered.

"I thought we could stay in tonight," I said to Erik, "I am really tired and there is a great Chinese place I always order from,"

Erik nodded, he was glad to stay in my apartment where there was no chance of being gawked at. Erik had noticed every strange look he had been given when he was out with me. And not just then, when he was at work Erik noticed the odd glances and the standoffish manner in which most people greeted him for the first time. Erik had been faced with this fact time and time again; his face made people uncomfortable.

But with me Erik felt safe from ridicule, and he could remind himself that I was not bothered by his face; he came to me and wrapped his arms around me from behind.

I smiled and held up a menu for him to see, "What do you want?"

Erik had never had Chinese takeout before, and therefore the foods on the page meant nothing to him. After a moment's consideration he spoke,

"I will have whatever you are having," Erik hated situations like this, situations in which he did not know all the facts about what he was doing and he suddenly felt like he was walking for the first time,

"Okay," I dialed and ordered, "They said twenty minutes, so it will probably be about forty five,"

Erik nodded and we sat on the sofa where we had eaten eggs that first morning. I really was tired and I was happy to use Erik as a pillow, and he was happy to comply,

"So how was your day?" I asked him, nestling my head against his shoulder,

In one fluid movement, Erik put his legs up on the sofa and leaned against the back, pulling me down with him so my head rested in his chest, "We had an insane woman come into the office today,"

"Really?" I said, enjoying listening to his heart beating in his chest as I leaned against him,

"She was this rich woman who wanted to build a tower; only she did not want it in the shape of a tower; because a 'tower is nothing more than a phallic symbol,'

"Is there any other way to build a tower?" I asked confused,

"No," Erik said, draping an arm around me, and I sighed; God I had no idea I could be that relaxed,

"What happened to you today?" Erik asked me, sliding his had up and down my arm,

"I had a brief due, and one of the other guys is off on his honeymoon, so I had to do double the work,"

"You poor thing," he kissed the top of my head; there was a question building in him but he was not sure if he should ask it or not; finally he simply had to know, "What is a honeymoon?"

"Oh! It's…you know, right after you get married you take a trip somewhere romantic and beautiful and just have sex all the time," I explained, thinking that it must have been called something different in France,

"That sounds wonderful; do you have to get married to do it?" Erik asked me,

"I think so," I teased him,

"Where do you want to go on your honeymoon?" he asked me,

"I don't know," was this really happening? Usually at the first talk of marriage, men went and hid under the covers; was he really being this open with me?

Had I know more about him, I would have known that more than anything else, Erik never wanted to be alone again, and to him that meant marrying someone who would be his companion and go for walks with him on Sundays.

"Where do you want to go?" I asked him,

"I don't know; I have always wanted to go back to Rome; you have never been there?"

I shook my head, Erik took a deep breath, dare he propose what he wanted to? He spoke slowly, "We should go there sometime,"

I felt my heart rate quicken, and Erik waited breathlessly as his suggestion hung in the air, "We will," I told him,

It was hard to remember at that point why I had thought his looks would be a problem; who cared what other people thought? What did it matter if everyone who saw him made a face? We were happy! I was not going to ruin the best relationship I had had in years because of a face,

That night Erik slept at my apartment; his arms tightly around me. Erik dreamt of a house and me for a wife, and I dreamt of killer bunnies, but then I always have strange dreams.

The next day on my way to work however, my happy little world of I don't care about what people think of Erik's face was shattered. Erik had had to go into his office early and so I would be going to work alone. I had woken up when he had so I could say goodbye to him, and then since I was already awake I had begun to prepare for my day. So for once; I had my St. John skirt suit and my Michael Kors shoes on and ready to go with time to spare. When I reached the street, my doorman, stopped me,

"Miss Moss!" he called brightly and I turned to face him, "Good to see you alone this morning, you're not still with that French man, are you?"

That presumptuous, nosey prick! What business of his was it who I went out with, he was just a doorman for God's sake! But before I could tell him what I thought, he continued to tell me what he thought,

"The whole building was talking about it and we all agree; you are much too lovely to be seen with such an ugly man," he shook his head, "I don't even know how you stand to look at him,"

I was so shocked that the whole building could be this cruel that I didn't say anything, and then I realized that since I had stopped to chat with the doorman, I was not late and I had to go,

With out a word I turned and ran to the street, jumping into a cab and giving the address of my work to the driver in a shaky voice…the whole building was talking about Erik and how ugly he looked…The fact was, I knew I did not care how he looked, I was attracted to him anyway. What bothered me was that everyone's opinion might bother him, and to be honest, I hated that I had to battle the public eye every time we went out.

All morning I just wanted lunch to come so I could meet him and erase all my worries about what he looked like to other people.

"Hey honey!" I smiled as I saw him and kissed him on the cheek, desperately needing to return to the place where we were happy,

"What are you smiling about?" he asked; we were sitting across from each other at a small table for two outside of the restaurant,

My plan was ruined; I had been trying to insure a good mood by putting on a good face, apparently he was not fooled, "Nothing," I lied, "I am just happy to see you,"

"Well, I am glad to see you too," he put his hand over mine on the table; I think our mushy romantic actions were making the two bitter looking women at the table next to us want to be sick all over their vegetarian diet lunch, "And I have a confession to make," I stared at Erik,

"What?" I could not help but feel a little pang of nerves in the pit of my stomach; the fact of the matter is 'I have a confession to make' translates to 'I am sleeping with someone else'

"I did not have to go to work early this morning," Oh God here it came; how could he be having an affair? We spent every night together!

"Oh?" I said,

"I wanted to get up early so I could get this for you," Oh my God I was in love with him, he handed me a small box,

"Don't get too excited; it is nothing special, it's just something I saw this guy selling on the street and I wanted to get it for you," This was true, but his excitement at the buying something had also been half due to his pride in finally figuring out modern American currency,

I opened the box; inside was a silver necklace with a pig on it, I laughed, "Because of the dream," I smiled up at him and he smiled wider,

"Actually I got you something else too, I just saw that and thought it was tacky and I wanted to see what you would do if I gave it to you,"

I laughed, and I knew it; I loved him, "Well, what is the other thing?" I asked excitedly,

"Well, do you know what day it is?"

"Thursday?" I guessed,

"Exactly three weeks ago, we met," My heart felt sick; he remembered when we met and I had not even thought about it, "I wanted to wait until later tonight but I can't, here,"

This time he handed me a box; the shape of which I knew all too well; a shoe box, "Oh my God," I murmured, looking at the cover of the box; manolo blahnik. I took off the lid and gasped; they were _the_ shoes, _the_ _shoes_ of the season. I had never, ever received such a gift from a man I was dating. In my state of shoe euphoria I forgot all of the rest of New York and I stood straight up, knocking over my chair and barely giving Erik time to stand up before I embraced him, kissing him as hard as I could,

Erik laughed, "So you like them?"

I just nodded, "Good," Erik said, and then he whispered in my ear, "This is really un romantic but I have to excuse myself for a moment,"

"Oh!" I understood, "I get it," I laughed slightly, "Hurry back," I sat back down as Erik headed for the bathroom, and I sat down and admired the shoes; they were strappy, dark blue, and had an _enormous_ heal. I happily put the new shoe next to my foot and imagined it with a great dress I would now have to go shopping for,

As I stared blissfully at my feet; New York seeped back into my ears;

"Can you believe who some women will be with just for a man who has money? Did you see his face? I can't believe he goes out in public," One of the dried up old prunes at the table next to us spoke,

"I know! It's disgusting, that beautiful woman with that…repulsive man, just because he can afford to buy her expensive shoes,"

My heart stopped beating and I glared up at the two women; ready to tare their eyes out; when I felt a hand on my shoulder, I looked up at Erik and by the expression on his face he had heard everything,

"I have to go," He said gruffly,

"Wait! Erik! Let's just pay for these drinks and then we can go together," But he was already walking away,

I sank heavily into the now righted chair and felt a rage burning in me, and then I noticed the two women were staring at me, "I hope you two are happy," I glared at them, standing and watching as they raised their eyebrows and exchanged looks as though I was the one that was out of line, "You may have just wrecked the best relationship I have ever had!" I was yelling now and people were staring. A manager came over and looked at me pleadingly, "Alright, I am going," I said, but then I turned back to the two women, "And by the way; these shoes," I held them up, "Were an anniversary present, and I don't need him to buy them for me; I am a lawyer, and I am going to sue both of you for harassment!" they knew as I walked away it was an empty threat, but I hoped it showed them just the same,

Erik walked hastily back to his office; just wanting to disappear and wondering why he had ever thought he could go into public; the times may have changed but the facts remained the same Erik thought; I am hideous.

He felt sick when he came back to the office so he went straight to the bathroom. Erik grabbed the marred side of his face and wished he could just tare it off. No matter where he went he just kept running into the problem over and over again. It was always there, stopping him from being happy.

The door of the bathroom opened and two men entered; Erik had ashamedly hid himself in the stall so the two men would not see him,

"So they are going to give the new guy the lead on the Smith account," Erik knew immediately that they were talking about him; and this was the first he had heard about him being in control of the design for the Smith account, but this would be the only good thing Erik overheard,

"Really?" the other man said, "I hate that guy; I don't trust foreigners, and he is so…gross looking,"

"You want to hear the worst part? I have seen the girl he is dating, and she is really hot,"

"What is it with women? I could never be with a girl that ugly,"

They left and Erik felt crushed; he wanted to slink back to his apartment and never leave, but he finished the day at work because of the fact that he wanted that Smith account more than he wanted to hide.

Still, he felt incredibly low when he met me so we could take a cab home together,

"Hey there," I said when I saw him, giving him an embrace which he did not return, I felt like crying, how could we have been so happy this afternoon and so sad now?

Erik did not answer me, he just stared off into the night, "Are you sure you want to share a cab home with me?" he asked listlessly,

"Erik, don't do this," I grabbed his arm, "Look; I put on the shoes you bought me," I showed him my feet,

He just snorted. In the cab home he would not look at me or talk to me. When we reached the door I spoke, "Are you coming in?" I looked up at him hopefully,

"No," he said,

"Please Erik, I think we need to talk," I begged him,

"No," he said again,

"Erik, what those women said today was not right but you shouldn't let it bother you,"

"Shouldn't let it bother me!" He yelled, "This whole city thinks I am the ugliest man alive; and nobody thinks I should be with you,"

"What do you think? Do you think you should be with me?" I asked him angrily, "I think we have something good here and I don't want to lose it,"

He shook his head, "Goodnight Olivia," he retreated to his apartment; he didn't even kiss me.

That night I slept alone for the first time in a long time. As I lay in my bed, it seemed much larger than it had before; it seemed much colder as well. I called Erik five times after one o'clock, but he never picked up.

"So now I have no idea what I am going to do," I told Jackie as we shopped for a birthday present for a friend, "I don't want to break up with him, but I don't know how to help him either,"

"Did you try talking to him?" She asked as she looked at the multicolored scarves in the store,

"Yes I tried! He thinks he looks to ugly for me,"

Jackie stopped and looked at me, "He is really that ugly? People actually talk about him?"

"No! well, he is not ugly to me," I said, "What am I going to do?"

"You have to get him over this fear of public opinion he has," Jackie said, "You just have to condition him to not care what anyone but you thinks,"

"So I have to subject him to criticism again and again until he is numb?" I looked miserably at my friend, "Help!"

That night I banged on Erik's door until he was forced to open it,

"What is it?" he asked,

"Can I come in?" I pushed past him and entered his apartment before he answered,

"What is it Olivia?" he asked,

"Erik, what happened?" I grabbed his arms which were folded across his chest, "We were doing so well together,"

"Olivia," he pushed my hands away, "I cannot be with you," Erik had been thinking about it all day, and he had come to the conclusion that he was not the right man for me, that I deserved a man with more than half a face,

"Erik please! Don't say that! do you understand that the weeks we have been together have been some of the happiest in my life! I don't want to let you go just because of what other people think," I put my arms around him and leaned against him.

For a few minutes we just stood there; I could feel his arms crossed under me as I pressed against him, and ever so slowly I felt his arms slide apart and then re cross around me. I felt tears in my eyes because I knew he was back,

Erik felt me shake slightly and he knew I was crying, "Please don't," he said, gently tilting my head back and wiping the tears from my eyes, "I hate to see you cry because of me,"

"Than don't do stupid things," I said lightly hitting his chest and smiling at him, "You know; if yesterday was the anniversary of the day we first met, than you know what tonight is the anniversary of?"

For the first time in awhile Erik smiled, well, half smiled, "Yes, I think I remember that night," he kissed me finally,

"We should go out and celebrate," I said when out kiss broke,

Erik sighed, "Olivia, I hate going out,"

"I know," I sighed, "But you can't just stay in your apartment all the time and only leave to go to work!"

"This is why I don't think we should be together," Erik said, stepping away from me, "You need someone who can go out and really be with you, and I don't think I can do that,"

"Erik, do you really want to give up this easily?" I put my hands on my hips,

"This is not a petty thing!" Erik yelled, "You have only had to deal with this kind of scrutiny for three weeks! I have been facing it my whole life! Do you know what it is like to feel like the whole world is shunning you every time you walk outside?"

He looked furious; I had never seen him this angry and it scared a part of me; but the New York lawyer was not backing down, "Are you happy with me Erik?" I demanded,

"Yes!" he shouted back; and then he shifted slightly, I don't think he meant to yell that,

"Do you know how hard it is to find someone to make you feel that way?"

"Only too well," he responded in a lowered voice,

"Well then we should fight like hell to keep this going," I stepped toward him again,

"Alright," he sighed, "Alright; we are going out,"

An hour later I had found a sexy black dress that went with my new blue shoes and a clutch to top it all off. Erik was dressed in black as always, and even though he looked wonderful, I made a mental note to buy him something in an actual color,

We went to a little French restaurant which, at nine on a Friday night, was absolutely packed. As we walked to a seat through the throngs of hungry New Yorkers, Erik felt like he was facing his worst nightmare.

The host sat us down and took our drink orders. I prayed that tonight we would have no problems, and the people at the tables around us would just keep to themselves; but of course that was too much to ask.

We had not been two minutes at the table before Erik heard the couple next to us whisper, "Do you see that man? This must have been a blind date; poor girl,"

Erik got up; he had tried but he felt he simply could not do it. His face turned red as he ran out of the restaurant;

"Erik!" I called after him, but he did not come back to me, I felt a ringing in my ears, but I would not just let him go,

"Erik!" I caught up with him outside the restaurant, "Where are you going?"

"I can't sit in there Olivia!" he yelled, "I just can't, and if that means we are over than we are over,"

"Listen to me Erik!" I shouted back, "At some point you are just going to have to face the fact that you are not who other people say you are! You are wonderful and I want to be with you! Why does that mean less than what strangers say about you? Why are you willing to leave me because people you will never see again think you look improper?"

Erik took several deep breaths, "I just can't Olivia, I have never been able to face the public, and I don't think I can,"

"Is that it then?" I felt my legs weakening,

"I think so," Erik said, and I fought back tears,

"Than I think you should know," I said shakily, "I was falling in love with you Erik," I kissed his marred cheek and slowly stepped away from him, I wanted to speak but I couldn't, so I just retreated back into the restaurant. I wanted to leave but when I reached the table, I just broke down and cried.

Outside Erik began to walk. He did not look at the faces of the people he passed as they walked by; all he thought about was leaving me. He had not wanted to, but he knew he had to.

He hailed a cab to take him home, but as he reached for the door; he noticed his own reflection in the tinted window. At that moment, Erik came face to face with his face. He stared at the bumpy, twisted flesh of his deformed face. This was what was holding him back and keeping him alone.

"Hey buddy, in or out?" the cab driver yelled to Erik, calling him back to reality,

Erik stepped back and let the cab drive away; Erik had just really looked at his face for the first time; and he faced the facts; it was his face, but this was his _life_, and he had just turned down a chance at happiness, just because of his face. What was it anyway? It was just a face, and they were just other people, and if he had me to face it all with him, than what was so scary about it all? He ran back to the restaurant.

I was trying to pull myself together; I had to face it; I could never be happy, the first man in years I had felt something genuine for had left me a mess. The one man I had trusted had left me broken in a restaurant in an expensive dress and new shoes.

"Olivia?" hearing his voice I thought I was dreaming,

"What…are you doing here?" I asked, standing and wiping tears from my eyes,

"I think I am falling in love with you too," he said, and he pulled me to him,

We were standing in the middle of the restaurant and everyone was staring at us as he kissed me. Some people, who had not ordered make out with their mutton, were offended, some clapped, and some just looked away. After we came out of our own little world Erik and I were both a bit embarrassed at the fact that we had just kissed in the middle of a crowded restaurant, but we faced it together.


	11. All is fair in Love and War

_Just one quick note before the story;_

_Barb, it was you I was talking about at the beginning of chapter 10, because usually you do tell me when I mess up spelling which I love because I mess up a lot and I like to go back and fix it! thanks so much! _

_By the way, I was wondering, how many people reading this have seen the show Sex and the City? _

_And one nagging question I have been wondering about…I am so not knowledgeable of the lingo sometimes…someone tell me, what the heck is a Mary Sue?_

All is fair in Love and War

There are many landmarks in the relationship timeline; the first date, the first kiss, the first time you have sex, your first fight, the first time you have make up sex, and then there is the first time your friends meet your boyfriend.

It actually came about in a way that was very New York. Erik and I had been sailing along smoothly; he was getting used to being out in public and he was building up a tolerance to other people's opinions. We were spending most of our free time together and I was actually beginning to wonder if it was time for us to reach another landmark in our relationship; moving in together.

It was a normal Monday evening; Erik was sitting at my table, his work scattered all over it trying to figure out how best to re design a certain angle so as to save the company ten days of labor, and I was reading my mail.

Bill, bill, useless letter from my sister in Rochester, bill…and then there it was; a wedding invitation.

"Erik said he does not want to go," I told Susan, Jackie, and Rebecca over dinner the next night,

"Oh no! You have to bring him!" Susan pleaded, "I am going to bring John, and since this is the first time any of you will be meeting him, it would really take the pressure off of him if you brought Erik, that way it would not be all about _him_ meeting _us_,"

"Well, as much as I want to use my boyfriend as a buffer for you boyfriend, I don't want to make him come," I said as I sipped my cosmopolitan

"Liv," Jackie said, "If you want him there he should come with you; I don't think you are asking too much of him to spend an afternoon at a wedding; and besides," she smiled, "I want to meet him,"

"Me too," Rebecca offered, "You seem crazy about him and yet we still have not met him; you need the friend seal of approval,"

The friend seal of approval I thought to myself later; the point in a relationship in which you drag your boyfriend in front of your friends and wait for them to tell you if he is right for you or not. All and all it's a very important step; your friends know you best, and usually they are right about who is right for you.

I decided I would try my hand again at begging Erik to come with me to the wedding. Years of relationships have taught me one thing; timing is everything; so I waited until what I thought would be the perfect time, right after sex.

He lay on his back next to me and I draped an arm over his chest, "Erik, I need to talk to you about something," I propped my chin on his shoulder,

"What my love?" he asked me and he wrapped an arm around me; I laughed at his use of 'my love' and shook my head; he knew I thought it sounded corny and fake when he called me 'my love' and of course that only made him say it more,

"Erik, I really _really_ want you to come to this wedding with me," I slid as close to him as I could,

Erik sighed and looked at me. He knew he would have to reconsider and go to the wedding with me; he felt in a way he owed me. I had given him everything he had ever asked for, a fact he was reminded of by the touch of my bare skin against his,

"Alright," Erik said reluctantly, "I will go with you,"

"Will you really?" I asked excitedly; and when he nodded and smiled I rewarded his courage at facing the wedding with a hard and passionate kiss, which led to more passionate sex. Afterward, completely exhausted, I fell right to sleep, smiling slightly in the knowledge that the man who was now holding me in bed was also willing to hold my hand at a wedding.

Elizabeth Warren Parker and Dwight R Munroe had been the 'it' couple of New York for as long as they had been dating; which accounted for about two months. He was a doctor with his own private practice and had been rich through inheritance anyway. Elizabeth was a writer for the Times, but she had informed everyone that after her marriage she thought it was time to start focusing on her family so she would be leaving her job; trader. Elizabeth had gone to college with me and Jackie, Dwight was a cousin of Susan's, and Jackie, who had just gone through a breakup, was taking Rebecca as her date.

So, one hot day in early August, I put on my light blue strapless Dior dress and my favorite pair of Jimmy Choo shoes and waited for the knock on my door. Well, I didn't actually wait, it was more like, I rushed to put on finishing touches to my makeup and hair until I heard the knock on the door and I knew time was up.

I opened my door to a fabulous sight. Erik stood, leaning against the door frame, wearing the perfect black suit and tie, and in his hand he held a single red rose. He gave me his most charming smile and handed me the flower.

I was caught between wanting to laugh and wanting to melt into a pile of love sick mush on the floor. Just when I thought the fight with in me would kill me, he grabbed me dramatically by the shoulders and whispered in my ear,

"You can laugh now," he was smiling; it was a game we had with each other. No matter how use to New York life Erik became, he still had a completely different view of romance than I did. He was old world charm and I was a New York realist; still, I could not help but appreciate the gesture,

"I am not going to laugh at you," I smiled, "I love it, thank you," I kissed his cheek, "Just let me put it in water; I don't want it to die while we are gone," I rushed off to see if I had a vase in my kitchen somewhere.

Erik stepped into my apartment and checked his Prada watch; we were going to be late, but he did not care. He would rather not go, but then again, I had practically begged him to come, and wasn't that what he had always wanted? Someone who would want to be with him? He smiled as he watched me put his rose in water to keep it alive. The only tricky thing with the rose was this; it reminded him of Christine. However, he thought, the roses he gave Christine always ended up forgotten on the ground. She had never appreciated it, she had not put it in water, not like I did.

He continued to laugh as he watched me; I could not find a vase in my kitchen, so I put the rose in an empty bottle of pino noir; something Erik decided that Christine definitely would not have done,

"Alright," I said, "I'm ready,"

"Olivia, you forgot your purse," he smiled and shook his head at me, pointing at my bag which was laying on the table by the door,

"Oh God!" I grabbed the bag, "What would I do without you?"

"Turn around," he said with a sly smile,

"Erik; not now," I laughed at him,

"Olivia, I am shocked, you know I am a perfect gentleman," he zipped my dress up the rest of the way; something I had not been aware needed doing,

"Thank you," I turned to face him; in my eyes he was perfect,

"Come, we are going to be late," and he took my arm and led me out of the apartment,

We arrived at the church and surprisingly, we were not late. In fact, it seemed there was something going on and the entire wedding party was waiting outside the church. I found Jackie, Rebecca, and Susan and John Grove standing outside the church.

This was my first look at John businessman Grove; he looked like he was ordered straight out of the perfect boyfriend catalogue, but then again; if he looks too good to be true, than he probably is.

"Girls, this is Erik," I introduced him and he shook hands with each of them, and then Susan introduced him to John. Erik had learned since meeting me that men no longer kissed woman's hands when they met, and so he committed no greeting foul when I introduced him to everyone,

Erik felt that his hands were beginning to sweat, he was nervous; he was outside, in public, people were staring at him; all in all it was his vision of hell, but not being able to stand something like this meant that he would always be alone, so he stood his ground,

"Pleased to meet you all," Erik said with a slight head nod,

"Why isn't anyone going into the church?" I questioned,

"Well, you know how it is hot enough outside to roast a pig?" Jackie said dryly, "The air conditioning in the church is broken and they are trying to fix it; and I think Elizabeth is losing her mind,"

"Or maybe it's melting," I suggested,

"Oh Olivia!" I heard a voice and I saw a white blur run toward me as Elizabeth greeted me, "You look wonderful!"

"So do you!" I cried back as I embraced my old college friend, "I can't believe you are getting married!"

"Oh Olivia, this is terrible! It's so hot my makeup is running and…"

Suddenly a woman dressed in a heinous green gown; the mark of a bridesmaid, rushed up to Elizabeth, "Liz, Mr. Rawson, the organ player, just fainted!"

"Oh God!" Elizabeth wailed, "Can they revive him?"

The bridesmaid shook her head, "He was old and we got worried so we sent him off to the hospital,"

"Oh God!" Elizabeth began to cry, "Now what am I going to do? I can't walk down the aisle without the wedding march!"

Erik felt the words welling up inside of him; he knew a lot had changed, but he did not think that the organ had changed, and to be honest with himself he wanted to play again. He knew that now was his chance, he could leap in and save the day and win the praise of everyone, especially me, or he could stick to what he always did and stand by and hope no one noticed him,

"You know," John spoke just as Erik was going to, "I know a musician, I could call him if you like,"

"Oh what a prince!" Elizabeth said, "Please call him!"

Erik felt ashamed of himself; there had been the perfect opportunity to show me, and himself, that he could function in public, and he had missed it because he had hesitated. Erik felt angry at his cowardice, how hard was it to speak up? And so, he thought maybe the game was not over yet,

As John took out his cell phone Erik made his play; "Actually, I play the organ, if you like I will play for you,"

I whipped around, "I didn't know you played the organ!" I said brightly, grabbing him by the arm,

"I wanted to keep a little mystery in our relationship," he smirked at me; and then he wondered how I would react if I found out just how much he was not telling me; like the fact that he had been transported to New York from Paris and from 1881 to 2005,

"W-who are you?" Elizabeth asked, looking at Erik for the first time and making a slight face at his face,

"Oh! Liz this is Erik Duval, he is here with me," I could not believe it had not occurred to me to introduce him,

Elizabeth nodded, "Well if you really can play…it would be a great favor…" Elizabeth did not look too excited about having a man with a face like Erik's involved with her wedding,

"It would be my pleasure Mademoiselle," Erik said, and I realized how charming and beautiful his voice could sound,

"Well," it appeared Erik's voice and his slight French accent were having an effect of Elizabeth as well, because her face cleared slightly, "If you are sure," she turned to her disgustingly dressed bridesmaid, "Kim, will you take him into the church and show him where to go?"

The unfortunate girl in the green dress nodded and motioned for Erik to follow her; Erik turned to me, "I will see you after," he kissed me swiftly and followed the ugly green beacon off to where ever the hell the organ was,

"Alright you guys," Elizabeth beamed at us, "I have to go and get married!" with this she scooted off,

The air conditioning fixed, the bride's makeup retouched, the grooms breath fresh, and my Erik in the front of the church at the organ, the wedding guests began to file into the church,

I walked between Rebecca and Jackie,

"Well, that give him bonus points in my book," Jackie whispered to me, "Knowing how to play the organ and saving your friends wedding from certain silence,"

"Honestly, I did not even know he could play the organ," I whispered back, and I wondered, if he had not told me that, what else was he hiding? Or was I looking at it all wrong? Perhaps he was not _hiding_ things from me so much as I was still discovering new aspects of him. Since my second version did not mean relationship panic, I decided he was just a complicated man with many talents, all of which I was determined to find out.

Erik sat in the front of the church, waiting for the signal from the priest which meant he should start playing. He was taking deep, calming breaths; he had no fear that he would make a mistake; he knew he knew music like other people knew breathing; it was effortless and automatic. What did worry him were the countless sets of eyes which would be focused on his back.

He tried to tell himself that everyone would be looking at the bride but the situation remained nerve wracking for him; and there was something else on his mind.

When I had introduced him to Elizabeth, I said that "he is here with me," Erik thought; I had not said 'this is the love of my life and the only man I ever want to be with.' Erik knew that an introduction like this would not be give, but he had picked up on the word 'boyfriend' and he assumed that that was what he was to me. And the more he thought about it, he realized; I had never told him I loved him out loud.

At this moment, the priest made the signal to Erik put his long fingers over the keys in an almost reverent manner, he was truly excided about being able to make music again, and then he began to play,

Sitting in my pew, I listened as the loud, hauntingly beautiful organ notes began to rise from the long tubes; I had never heard anything sound so wonderful; I did not know what he was playing as the vomit green bridesmaids walked down the aisle, prelude to the bridal march I guess, but the music filled my head and all my senses until all I could think about was the heat of the room and my own personal desire to run to his side and let him take me right there on the organ; which was a bad thing to think in a church,

Erik had almost forgotten how much he loved to play the organ. As he let the notes lose to ring through the church, he remembered every time music had nurtured his tortured soul, much in the same way that shoe shopping tended to make me feel whole again.

For one twisted, sly moment Erik thought of forgetting the entire world around him and the wedding march and just pounding out his own tune, but the new New York side of him won out and he restrained himself.

Elizabeth appeared at the back of the church, arm and arm with her father, and Erik, at another slight signal from the priest, began the ever familiar wedding march.

After the ceremony, the happy couple jumped into their decorated mustang convertible and darted off to the reception. I shoved through the crowd leaving the church until I found Erik's side.

"You were amazing!" I grabbed his arm,

"You enjoyed it then?" he asked, still wondering why exactly I had not introduced him as a boyfriend,

"Yes! Why didn't you tell me you played?" I asked him as we left the church; I was still wondering slightly why he had kept information about himself back from me,

"It never came up," he said simply, which was a truthful answer; he had wanted to forget music and all it had meant to him, and so he did not want to think about it; it really had nothing to do with wanting to keep any information about himself away from me, but of course this was far too logical for me to accept,

We spotted Rebecca and Jackie standing with Susan and John Businessman,

"You played beautifully," Jackie complemented Erik as we joined them,

"You really do have a way with those keys," Rebecca commented, and I smiled; it looked like Erik was well on his way to being signed in with perfect boyfriend status,

The reception was going to be held at the Plaza Hotel, and we broke off into threes to take cabs to the site; Rebecca, Susan and John and Jackie, myself, and Erik,

"Where did you learn to play the organ?" Jackie questioned Erik in the cab,

"I know it is going to sound as though I am trying to be impressive, but I taught myself," Erik admitted; he supposed he could have said something else but he was in no mood to lie; he was still wondering; was I going to say I loved him? I had said that I was falling in love with him but it was not the same. He had never heard those ever so important three words directed at him and now more than anything he wanted to hear me say them,

"Wow! I couldn't even figure out how to play the harmonica," Jackie admitted, "Liv, do you still have your violin?"

I thought for a moment; I had played the violin in high school and then for two years in college before it became too much work, "I think so; somewhere; I think one of the strings is popped though; and I could never tune the damn thing without the tuning machine,"

"Why didn't _you_ tell _me_ that you played the violin?" Erik asked, momentarily forgetting his questions about the intensity of my feelings for him in the excitement of finding out I had a little music in me,

Suddenly I felt embarrassed; I had been thinking that he had been intentionally keeping facts about his past away from me just because he had not told me he could play the organ; I had forgotten that with all the millions of things people do, it is impossible to share them all,

"I guess it never came up," I admitted sheepishly, "I haven't played in years though,"

"Why did you stop? The violin is a beautiful instrument," Erik pressed, and I shrugged,

"It was too much, I had a lot of other things going on, and I didn't have time for it,"

Erik mentally re strung my violin and tuned it; I would play again, and I would tell him I loved him,

We stepped out in front of the Plaza Hotel, I put my arm through Erik's as we walked inside. As we walked I sensed the feeling of panic he was experiencing as we traversed the crowded lobby. Erik could not help it; every time he went out in public he fought an inner war with himself to hold his ground.

In fact, Erik felt he was in a constant battle with his feelings; he was always pushing Christine away from his thoughts; he knew he did not really love her anymore, but she was like an old battle injury, every now and then her memory stung painfully again. He also had to concentrate on not concentrating on what other people thought of him. It would be easier, he knew, to not fight everyday against his desire to be reclusive, but with out the fight he would not gain the victory; which was being happy with me.

Rebecca, Susan and John were already seated when we walked in. We sat down in the remaining chairs and then the fun began;

Elizabeth had seen us enter and she pushed her way over to our table, thanking Erik profusely before rushing off to take pictures with the rest of the wedding party,

"I guess it was a good thing you knew how to play," John the businessman said as he sipped some of the champagne which had been on the table already poured when we had sat down, "I never played an instrument myself, it always seemed that the guys in the band or the orchestra were…you know…dandies," And the I realized, we were dealing with alpha male guy here; it had been Erik who had saved the day at the wedding, and now John the businessman wanted to reassert _his_ manliness,

Erik felt like he had just been attacked by a formerly friendly nation. There was no thought in his mind of appeasement; there would be no civil ignoring of the bomb John Grove had just dropped on Erik's head. He had just called him a dandy, which Erik knew was synonymous with a fop. _Raoul_ was a fop, and there was no way in hell he was going to take being put in the same category as Raoul lying down; so he fired a counter strike,

"Really?" Erik dropped his voice to a tone of pure venom which sent a shiver up my spine, "I always thought that people who played instruments were…you know…talented and other people were…you know…jealous,"

This was the point in the fight in which your friends pull you apart before you tare your opponents head off,

"Erik, I need a drink," I said quickly, "Will you come with me?"

"You have champagne right in front of you," Erik sneered, still glaring at John Grove,

"I want to save that for later," I put my arm on his,

He knew he would have to forfeit the battle; as much as he wanted to destroy John Grove he had to honor the request of his ally. Erik and I walked to the bar; there was already a line so we had to wait,

"Erik, I know he is acting juvenile, but please _please_ don't fight, Susan is my friend and I just want everything to go well today," I grabbed his hand and squeezed it affectionately,

He sighed; he had to abandon the war for love, "You should tell your friend that her man is an ass," he muttered bitterly,

"He's not; I don't even think he realized what he was saying; all men tend to think other men who play musical instruments are…you know…" I tried to explain this macho complex to him,

"Why?" he asked, bewildered,

"I don't know," I said exasperatedly, "It makes no sense because all women think it's _very_ sexy," I took a step closer to him and straightened his tie,

"Sexy? Really?" Erik was amused, and he rested his hands on my waist,

"Yeah…" I smiled up at him, "Very sexy,"

Erik decided that if being civil meant being able to keep me happy, that was something he wanted to do. However, when we got back to the table, it became apparent to all that some serious diplomatic maneuvering would be needed to keep the cold war between Erik and John Grove from turning hot,

"Look Liv!" Susan shouted as Erik and I sat down, "Look what John just gave me," she held out her wrist to show me a sparkling Tiffany bracelet; giving Susan a bracelet like that was as good as a marriage proposal in her mind and so I understood why she was so excited,

"Well just because you are not getting married today does not mean you should not feel special," John kissed Susan on the lips and I think everyone else at the table rolled their eyes; he also took a large swig out of a beer bottle he had taken as one of the caterers passed by, "it's important to buy your lady something beautiful every now and then, don't you think so Erik?" his question sounded civil enough, but in his voice was a tone of challenge meaning did Erik have the money to buy me expensive jewelry from Tiffany's,

Erik thought for a moment; he needed to respond to the challenge while at the same time keeping things from escalating into an arm wrestling match, "I get her something every now and then," he said, planning to go further and explain the shoes,

"Well what did you do for her today?" John Grove challenged,

"Actually before we left Erik brought me a rose," I said; Grove was starting to tick me off,

"How charming," Jackie said sincerely,

"Romantic," Rebecca added,

"Just one rose?" John said with his eyebrow raised, and he finished his beer,

"Sometimes a small gesture is more meaningful," Erik said in a would be calm voice, "For instance, does Olivia tell you about those strange dreams she has?" he now addressed Jackie, Rebecca and Susan,

"Oh my God yes," Rebecca said, downing her champagne,

"Tell me you bought her therapy," Jackie said wryly,

"Actually I didn't think of that; maybe in the future," Erik teased me,

I smiled and hit his shoulder, "I am never telling you anything again,"

"Anyway," Erik continued, "Has she told you the one about the…"

"Pig people?" Jackie and Rebecca finished his sentence for him before they began to laugh,

"This is not happening," I said and I hid my face in my hand; Erik put his hand on my back,

"Well, I saw a necklace this street vender was selling with a pig pendant on it and I had to get it for her," Erik finished his charming little tale and Rebecca and Jackie laughed; Susan appeared uncomfortable, and John looked smug,

"You bought her something from a _street_ _vendor_?" John said, taking a glass of champagne off of a try as a waitress passed by and drinking half of it in one gulp,

"Well, I also bought her those shoes from manolo something," Erik added casually,

"Oh Olivia loved those!" Jackie informed Erik, "She was practically bursting when she told us about them,"

"I was just glad she liked them," Erik said, wrapping his arm around my shoulders,

There was a brief cease fire in which everyone sipped their drinks. Erik had won a decisive victory; it was the Cuban Missal Crises of male rivalry, and Erik had come out smelling like a rose. He seemed wonderful with out trying, which he was; and John seemed like a pompous ass, which he was.

However, the armistice did not last long enough. John was about to fire the atomic question;

"So tell me Erik…because I think everyone wants to know, how did a guy like you end up with a woman like Olivia? I mean, the face…what is wrong with it by the way?"

This was below the belt; far below, and I felt like taking a swing at him myself. Erik felt the heat rise in his face as it turned red; this was the point in which he usually ran away and cried over his unfortunate deformity. However this time, Erik thought, he could not run; there was no retreating from this confrontation. He was on the front line and the enemy was before him and he had to shoot or fall,

"I was born this way; do you have a problem with that?" Erik added a new weapon to his arsenal; he had immunity to toxic remarks from slightly inebriated men. For the first time in his life, Erik looked at his face not as his problem, but as everyone else's,

"Oh look! That's Rachel and her husband; I haven't seen them in ages! Come on John, I have to introduce you to them," Susan had sat and watched long enough and now she finally pulled John Grove from the table and away into the crowd,

"That guy…is, I am sorry there is no other word for it; he is a douche bag," Jackie said dryly as they disappeared,

Erik did not know what a douche bag was, but it did not sound like a complement so he was pleased with the comment,

The battle was over; Erik had won and now the territory of the table belonged to us; Susan wisely kept John occupied in other parts of the room for the rest of the wedding. Dinner was almost enjoyable now that John was gone. Erik did not say too much, but he got along well with Rebecca and Jackie and I had no doubt that they liked him; I had no idea what Susan would say about him though.

After the meal, there was the customary first dance between the bride and groom. As Erik watched the love filled faces of Dr. and Mrs. Elizabeth and Dwight Munroe, he wondered if that was what he had with me. He felt that he was in love with me; but he was not sure how I felt. Erik knew the pain that had come from being set on spending the rest of his life with someone only to have them not return his feelings. He had greatly misjudged Christine; how could he tell if he had misjudged me or not?

I sat there oblivious to his inner turmoil; I thought that we were fine; it did not even cross my mind that I had never said the exact I love you words to him. The truth was, saying 'I love you' is usually awkward for a man to hear, and if you are not completely sure of the response it can lead to a ruined relationship. All this past information had me so screwed up; I did not even recognize the problem,

As I watched the newlywed couple, I wondered just how long it would be before Erik proposed to me. After Mark, I had not been sure that I would ever want to be engaged again, but Erik…I was not sure if it was all the wedding festivities getting to my head, but I knew that if Erik asked me I would say yes.

The first dance ended, and then every couple was allowed to go out on the floor. Erik did not even ask me if I wanted to dance; he simply took my hand and led me out among all the other pairs of dancing people. He was a skilful dancer; at least to a slow song, which was all we would dance to. I had not brought a date to a wedding that I had actually liked in years and the difference was amazing. Instead of the hollow, sad feeling that came with witnessing people who were more happy than me come together in matrimony, I felt hopeful, like that was what I was going to have…soon.

It was no surprise that in our blissful state on the dance floor in which Erik circled his arm tightly around my waist and I rested my head on his chest, neither of us saw it coming.

All of a sudden I saw a blur in the corner of my eye and then I heard Erik cry out in pain and anger. Erik had looked up just in time to see John Grove's elbow coming toward his eye on the marred side of his face, a blatantly unfair violation of a silent peace treaty; Erik stumbled backward slightly in shock and in pain,

"Sorry about that," John Grove managed to sound sincere and people around us stopped dancing to see why Erik had cried out,

Erik was holding his eye when I stepped back from him, "What's wrong?" I asked, concerned,

"John hit him in the eye with his elbow," Susan said before Erik could answer, and by the tone of her voice she was not happy, "John; you have to be more careful,"

Erik took his hand away from his eye and checked to see if he was bleeding, he was, a little bit. Erik felt like punching John Grove square in his smirking mouth, but he knew that by the rules of society, he simply could not deck him right there on the dance floor,

"Oh Erik, this is going to swell if we don't put ice on it," as much as I hated John Grove at that moment I was more concerned with Erik's well being, "Can you see alright?"

"I can see; I feel...fine," Erik stammered out; he did not feel fine; he felt like someone had hit him in the head with a hammer, but he was not going to admit in front of John Grove that he was hurt,

"Let's go home," I guided Erik from the dance floor without saying goodbye to Susan. I informed Rebecca and Jackie that we were leaving and I dragged Erik, who kept assuring me that he was fine, to the street and got a cab.

"Really Olivia, I am _fine_," Erik insisted when we were back in my apartment,

"Really? Than why is your eye the size of a tennis ball?" I demanded as I searched my freezer for something he could hold over his eye,

"It's not that bad," Erik maintained, getting up to check his eye in a mirror. He was shocked at what he saw; his eye was indeed swollen and the twisted skin around it was turning black and blue. Erik thought he never looked worse.

"Here," I found a frozen bag of corn and wrapped a towel around it and handed it to him, "Put this on your eye,"

Erik stared at me; he loved the concerned look in my eyes for his well being. He decided then that he had to know; he had to know if I wanted to be with him forever,

"Olivia," He began slowly,

"What is it?" I asked him,

"Olivia, I have to ask you something, only do not say anything until I am finished," Oh God, I thought, was he going to propose right now? "Olivia, you have never said…you never have said to me that you love me," I gasped slightly and I wondered how that was possible, but the more I thought about it the more I realized it was true,

"But I don't want you to think that you have to say it," Erik continued, still holding the bag of frozen corn to his eye, "Just tell me…" he wasn't sure what he wanted to hear me say that was not 'I love you,' but words from another lifetime came drifting to him, "Say you want me with you here, beside you,"

He looked so sad, so pleading standing there in my kitchen holding frozen produce to his face. It seemed so unfair, that a man I knew to be so wonderful always ended up getting hurt; there was only one thing I could say, "Erik," I wrapped my arms around his middle and stared up into his good eye, "I love you,"

Erik let the corn fall to the floor so he could hold me with both hands, desperately pressing his lips to mine despite the pain in his face due to his injury. Through his face had never felt worse, his heart had never felt better.

As for the rest of my friends; Rebecca went home with a groomsman, Jackie went home with a lot of cake, and as for Susan and John…

Susan ran out of the Plaza right after we left; telling John she would call him later. John chased her out to her cab, and as Susan pulled open the door it hit him, right in his groin. All and all, it seemed fair.


	12. Full House

Full House

I spelt well; sadly for Erik, he could hardly sleep at all. His eye was hurting him quite badly and the frozen bag of corn I had given him to use for ice made his face painfully numb; until it started to melt and made his face wet.

However, Erik felt that all this was only a minor inconvenience. He was happy; I had said I loved him, and in his mind that made up for any pain or aggravation caused by the wedding. As he lay on his back, he stared at me in the dark. He found he could still see quite well in the dim room. The hot August moon was casting rays in through my window to land on my bed.

Erik traced the line of my chin with one of his long fingers. I moved slightly into his touch and muttered something in my sleep. Erik smiled, knowing I was probably dreaming about evil flying farm animals. He kissed me softly on my forehead before rising from the bed, putting away the fast thawing corn, and then returned to me. Finally, at four thirty in the morning, Erik closed his eyes.

At eight thirty, we were both called out of our peaceful slumber by a loud series of knocks on the door. I jerked startled awake and then checked the digital clock by the bed,

"Who would _do_ this?" I groaned; moving closer to Erik and hiding my face in his chest as if it would make whoever was at the door go away,

"I will see who it is," Erik said dutifully, rising from the bed and pulling his robe, which was now always kept in my apartment, over his shoulders. Erik noted in a mirror on his way to the door that his eye was still swollen and black and blue, but at least it hurt less.

Erik pulled the door open; ready to tell whoever it was to go away, but it was Susan. She stood in the hall looking like the perfect WASP in her blue 50's inspired dress and her long brown hair swept out of her face in a white headband. In her hands she carried a giant basket of muffins; her form of a peace offering. When Erik opened the door she was smiling apologetically, but when she saw Erik's eye her smile faded,

"Who is…" I began to ask but then I saw who it was at our door, "Good morning," I said to her coldly as I stood by Erik's side in the doorway,

"I made you two muffins," she offered,

We both stared at her, "You came over here at…eight thirty…to tell us you made us muffins?" I asked her,

"And to apologize," Susan said helplessly, "These are apology muffins, look," she held the basket out to us,

I did not move, I was still mad at her for exposing my boyfriend to ridicule and a nasty elbow. Erik however was hungry and he took one of the muffins out of the basket and inspected it, "It says 'sorry' on it," Erik said with a slight laugh and he showed it to me,

Susan nodded, "they all say 'sorry' or have little smiling faces on them, I used homemade frosting," she tried to keep her voice upbeat,

"Do any of the little faces have X eyes?" I asked, still not quite ready to forgive and forget,

"Oh Liv…" Susan looked distraught,

"What kind of muffin's are these?" Erik asked, clearly more interested in eating than any animosity toward Susan,

"Blueberry," Susan said, glad that Erik did not seem too angry with her,

Erik took a bit of the muffin, "These are good, here," he handed me the muffin; truth be told Erik could not feel angry, I had said I loved him, everyone else could go to hell,

"Erik, I am trying to have a fight with my friend," I could not help but want to smile at him though, "You have crumbs on your chin," I reached up and brushed them away,

Susan, watching the level of intimacy between Erik and I and knowing that was something her relationship with John had been sorely lacking, began to cry. I sighed; I could not be angry with her any longer, she was my friend and she needed me. I put my arms around her shoulders and guided her into the apartment. She sat down on the sofa, the muffin basket still in her hands; I sat beside her. She was still sobbing and Erik brought her a tissue, which only caused her to cry harder,

"I am so sorry Liv, I never meant for him to say those things, and I certainly never meant for you to get hurt," she addressed Erik now,

"It was only my eye; I have two of them you know,"

Susan laughed and dried her eyes on the tissue, "I am so sorry, can you two ever forgive me?"

"Of course Susan," I said, hugging her, "You are one of my best friends; I can't stay mad at you!"

"Good," Susan smiled, "Because I found out; I was going to tell everyone yesterday but…anyway; my friend has a beach house in the Hamptons and she is not using it next weekend and she said I could use it and since there are extra rooms; I thought we could all go!"

And just like that, Erik and I were signed up to go on our first trip together.

A trip for me meant paring down an entire wardrobe into something which would fit into a manageable amount of suitcases. For Erik it meant the opposite; I insisted we get something for him to wear which was not black or navy blue; even though he insisted he should wear those colors, mainly because they matched his eye.

I dragged him out shopping one afternoon after work. Of course shopping to a man is a form of torture, so he was less than enthusiastic;

"I really don't see what is so wrong with the clothes I have now," He grumbled as I pulled him toward a store,

"Erik, you can't wear black all the time, and you don't have any clothes for the beach…you don't even have a bathing suit!" I laughed as I forced him through the doors,

"Nor will I be getting one," He said quickly, the thought of it made his skin crawl,

"Do you know how to swim?" I asked him while I picked up a light blue shirt and held it up to him,

Erik thought of the lake under the opera, "Yes,"

"Well then you need a suit!'

"I change my answer, I do not now how to swim," he said quickly

"Too late," I said, pulling him over to another rack of clothes, "Besides, you will have fun in the ocean, I promise," I smiled at him,

He stared at me for a long moment and then he smiled, "You are quite fortunate that you are so irresistible,"

Laughing I began throwing clothes into his arms for him to hold; t-shirts, shorts, light pants, and even swim trunks, "So what did everyone say about your eye at work?" I asked him as I piled more and more choices on top of him,

"I said that you did it," Erik was not really concentrating on the conversation, he was eyeing the swim trunks as though they might jump up and attack him; all in all they were not to be trusted,

"What!" I cried, "So now everyone thinks I am an abusive girlfriend?"

"Probably," he was still more concerned with the idea of having to wear swim trunks than with my indignation,

"You have to tell them something else!" I insisted, "what if I have to meet people from your work someday? I don't want to be known as the girl who…hits!"

"Alright, I will tell them something else…on one condition," he said,

"And what is that?" although I thought I knew already,

He picked up the swim trunks, "I put these back and we never speak of them again,"

I stared at him for a moment, "So I am an abusive girlfriend, I can live with that,"

It seemed like it took a lifetime for the weekend to come; the closer we got to Friday the more excited…and nervous I became. This was another big step; spending the weekend with him would be like a preview of a future honeymoon. I only hoped the there would be no awkward situations created by mixing friends and boyfriend; me last attempt at this had resulted in near disaster.

The only disaster Erik feared was his new wardrobe. He stared at the new, colored clothes with growing apprehension. Since coming to New York, Erik had been forced to change a lot of things about himself; his reclusive tendencies, his mad love obsession with Christine, his hair (I had convinced him he looked better without the rug and the sideburns) but this was something he was not quite comfortable with. New he could do, but sky blue was way out of his comfort zone.

The day finally came; I packed too much and he tried to get away with packing nothing new at all; a plan I foiled by packing way too much for him as well. I had rented a car for our drive out to the Hamptons and as Erik and I put our luggage in the trunk I made a new discovery about him,

"So…Do you want to drive or shall I?" I asked him as we shut the trunk,

"You can," he said quickly,

"Alright, you know, some men have this weird complex where they always have to drive," I kissed his cheek, "glad to see you aren't one of them,"

We got in the car and I started the engine, "Olivia," he said suddenly, "I do not know how to drive a car," He had been wondering if this fact would ever need to be mentioned and at first he had been hoping to avoid it, but the more he saw of them the more fascinated he became by cars; and he wanted to learn how to use one. He reasoned that as I had been fine with showing him how to do everything else, I would teach him this as well,

His confession was not as shocking as he thought it might be; there were countless people in the city who had never had the need to learn how to drive a car thanks to the brilliant cab and bus systems,

"Oh…that's not a problem; lots of people don't drive,"

"How do you do it anyway?" he asked the question which had been plaguing him since one of these things had almost run him over on his first night in the city,

"You just turn the key and press the petal…Hey ass hole! Stay in your lain!" I shouted as a car swerved next to me,

"Excuse me?" Erik did not know if I was talking to him or not, but he was sure that if he was in a lain, he had been staying in it,

"Nothing…just a little road rage," He eyed me as I continued to mutter about the mad man the DMV allowed on the road; clearly he was not the only one with rage issues,

We picked up Jackie, then Rebecca, then Susan. It was a task getting all the weekend needs of four New York women into one car, but somehow we managed.

"Girls! I'm so excited!" Susan smiled as she checked her Burberry purse one last time to make sure she had not forgotten anything,

"Honestly Susan; this is a trip, save the orgasm for sex," Rebecca quipped,

"Hey! Easy on the orgasm talk," I called from the front seat, glancing over to see what expression Erik had on his face,

"Oh, Erik's not offended, are you?" Rebecca insisted,

Erik smiled, the dancers at the ballet had though they were inappropriate, but he knew we four women put them to shame, "It doesn't bother me," contractions were another thing Erik was picking up on,

"Well tell us when you need a life raft; because we are about to drown you in the estrogen ocean," Jackie called,

Erik did not really know what she meant by this, but he assumed she had been meaning to be funny so he laughed.

In all honesty Jackie had just brought a great concern of mind front and center; I was worried that by the end of this weekend Erik would need the coastguard to resuscitated him; four women and one man. God help him.

Twenty minutes later Susan had not lost any of her enthusiasm;

"We should all have a sing along!"

"Oh dear God," I heard Jackie groan,

"Honey, don't take this the wrong way, but I am going to have to shove that bag of yours into your pretty little mouth," Rebecca snapped,

"Oh come on you guys!" Susan would not be deterred, "When I was younger, when ever we went on road trips my mother always led us in songs; it's how I learned all the words to Flower Drum Song,"

"And how useful that knowledge must be for you today!" Jackie said sarcastically,

"Who was your mother, Mrs. Brady?" Rebecca asked,

I however needed a distraction from my drive numb brain, "Alright Susan, what are we singing?"

Erik felt a strange twisting in his stomach; we were talking about doing what was his very favorite thing to do. Despite all efforts to cut music completely from his life he found it was impossible; like trying to stop me from shopping; it just stays with you; and no matter how many times it breaks your bank account (or in Erik's case your heart) you just keep coming back for more,

"Oklahoma," Susan said,

"I think I am going to be sick," Jackie muttered, but Erik waited excitedly; what were we talking about? What was Oklahoma?

"They couldn't pick a better time to start in life," I began to sing,

"It ain't to early and it ain't too late," Susan joined in,

"Startin' as a farmer with a brand new wife," My turn,

"Soon be livin' in a brand new state," Susan's turn,

"Brand new state! Gonna treat you great!" together,

Everybody, except for poor Erik who did not know the words, "_Oklahoma where the wind comes sweeping down the pain! And the wavin' wheat, can sure smell sweet, when the wind comes right behind the rain!" _

"_Oklahoma every night my honey lamb and I, sit alone and talk and watch a hawk makin' lazy circles in the sky!"_ I sang that part alone,

But every one joined in for, "_We know we belong to the land, and the land we belong to is grand, and when we sayyyyyy yip! I-yip-I-yo-e-a! we're only sayin' your doin' find Oklahoma, Oklahoma OK!" _

Then we lowered our voices and sang in a whisper, "_Okla-homa, Okla-homa…" _and then our voices rose higher_, "We know we belong to the land, and the land we belong to is grand! And when we say yip! I-yip-I-yo-e-a! we're only sayin' your doin' fine Oklahoma, Oklahoma…O-K-L-A-H-O-M-A Oklahoma! Yaaaaa!" _

Erik had just been given his first taste of Broadway, and to be honest with himself he was not sure what he thought; it was so different, but it was up tempo and it made us all laugh, and one thing he knew he would always like would be the sound of people enjoying music.

The beach house was small and comfortable; it was white washed with navy shuttered windows. By the time we got there I was exhausted from working all day and then having to drive all the way out to the Hamptons.

There were enough rooms in the house for us each to have our own; of course Erik and I would be sharing one of these rooms. I was hardly in the room before I crashed on the bed, leaving poor Erik to carry up all the luggage; something he did happily as he watched me, curled up on the bed half asleep.

"Oh," I said when I realized he had brought all my baggage, "You did not have to do that, I would have helped,"

"You can hardly lift your head, let alone the thousand ton shoe bag you insisted on bringing," He dropped down on the bed next to me,

"You're so sweet," I shoved myself into his arms, "I don't deserve you,"

There they were; the words Erik had always said to others directed toward him. Without knowing it, I had said the four words which made Erik feel a warmth he had never thought possible. Not only did I love him, I admired him as well, and though Erik did not understand why on earth I would think that I did not deserve him, he appreciated my saying it.

I was laying on my back, Erik on top of me, his arms around my back. After I said these words he pressed his lips to mine, gently at first but then with such force and passion I felt my heartbeat quicken and I wanted very badly for him to do more. I was reworded by his hand sliding under the hem of the skirt I was wearing.

"My love," Erik murmured as he kissed me, and his hand traveled the length of my thigh

Truth be told I was getting very used to him calling me "my love." At first I had thought it sounded silly and a bit trite, but the more I realized he how much he actually meant it the more I enjoyed hearing him say it.

"I love you," I whispered as he gently kissed my neck and his fingers lightly touched me, sending a tremor up my body.

We were cut short by a knock on the door, "Come on you two; you can have sex later, now we have to eat," Rebecca called through the door before going down to the kitchen to watch as Susan, the only one who really knew how to cook, made dinner.

"we will finish this later, I promise," Erik sighed and rolled off of me leaving me with one last kiss upon my lips. I sat up as Erik walked into the adjoining bathroom of our room to wash his hands. I could not have cared less for dinner; I had wanted to finish now. However that night, true to his word as always, Erik made me finish, four times over.

The interesting thing about a vacation is that everyone views the mornings differently; either it is a blessing to be able to sleep in late, or it is a treat to get up early and run or go for walks. Jackie and I were of the running camp, while everyone else in the house slept in.

I left a note for Erik telling him where I had gone, signing it "love Olivia." Erik always called me Olivia, never Liv, and I found even this, which really meant nothing, to be the most endearing thing he could do.

Erik did not hear me as I left; he was dreaming about what all the people from his past would do if they could see him now, now that he was a wealthy man in love and not a coward hiding from his own face. Erik had never slept so much in his life. He found that it was much easier to do when he was not in a coffin, or when he was not half out of his mind with unrequited love rage.

As Erik dreamt of a kind of revenge, Jackie and I ran. The air coming in from the sea was cool and there were not too many people out on the beach; perfect running conditions. Our conversation turned to the night before,

"That was quite a show you two put on last night," Jackie teased me as we ran,

"You heard us?" I was shocked, "I thought we were being quite,"

"You were; but we were listening at the door," Jackie laughed,

"Oh my God! You guys are sick!"

"Hey, we are all alone and you are in love _and_ getting laid; you owe us _something_," Jackie countered,

"Well, don't tell Erik, I don't want him to get embarrassed," I pleaded,

"From what I heard last night he had nothing to be embarrassed about," Jackie said, and then we both dissolved into a fit of laughter which made it difficult to run.

When we returned the sun had fully risen and the day was already getting hot. I quietly opened the door to our room; Erik still lay sleeping. I slipped off my running sneakers and went stealthily to the side of his bed. I watched him sleep for a moment; he looked incredibly peaceful and sweet, not to mention handsome. Though I knew Erik was not traditionally attractive, his face prevented this, love is blind, and I loved him with all my heart.

But at the moment, I did not want to be the sweet little angel who softly awakens her lover; I had another plan in mind. In one quick movement, I pulled the covers off of him and jumped on him,

He groaned as he was shocked awake and I grabbed hold of him, "you are all sweaty and you smell," he half complained half laughed,

"I know," I said wickedly, "And you love it,"

"We shall see," He said in just as wicked a tone, and before I could stop him, Erik turned beneath me and wriggled out of the bed only to quickly turn around and grab me, throwing himself into my middle and picking me up and carrying me over his shoulder.

"Erik! Put me down!" I was laughing very hard however,

"I will when I will," he said, slapping my backside,

"Erik!" I shrieked again; he carried me kicking and screaming into the bathroom, forcing me into the shower. He set me down and backed away before turning on the water; completely soaking me. I had to laugh; but I also pulled him into the shower with me.

"Are you in need of further assistance in the shower my love?" Erik teased me slyly as he rested his hands on my waist. I nodded innocently and lifted my arms above my head and let him pull my shirt off over my head, and then my sports bra, all the while the water from the shower head beat down on us both.

That morning I discovered another thing to enjoy on vacation mornings; long showers. And as Erik's hand brought the washcloth across my bare skin with the same reverence he brought his fingers across organ keys, I knew I could never belong to another man, and Erik knew he needed to thank whoever invented the shower.

However, Erik had to curse whoever invented the bathing suit. It was a lovely day and we were going out to the beach; there would be no staying inside the house today. Though everything was heaven outside the house, inside I was doing battle; in the case of Olivia and swim trunks v. Erik and stubbornness I was determined to win,

"But you will look so cute!" I insisted, which may not have been the right angle to push,

"That is not reason for me to put these on," Erik insisted; nope, wrong angle.

"Would you just try them on and see how they look?" I suddenly knew the right angle, "Please," I wrapped my arms around his neck, "For me,"

I saw the expression in his eyes change; ding ding ding, "Fine," he sighed and entered the bathroom to change. It may not have been the modern feminine approach, but when it comes to men, sometimes womanly whiles work better than reason.

Erik looked at himself in the full length mirror in the bathroom,

"I look ridiculous," he thought as he examined what I was forcing him to wear. Nothing like this would have been imaginable back in the day he had come from; where a ladies ankle was considered inappropriate to show. As Erik thought about this he laughed to himself knowing that I would never have made it in his time; there would have been no way for my to show off my shoes. But this was the only thought that gave him any amusement.

"How is it coming in there?" I called through the door,

"I am not coming out," He called back, "I look like a…I don't know what, a confused albino who went out of the house half dressed," Erik ridiculed himself as he surveyed his un tanned body in the mirror. He had never liked his own physique and so he had covered it up with as many clothes as he could. Now, being forced to wear only swim trunks, he felt entirely too exposed.

"Please let me see," I begged him, "I will make it worth your while I promise," I added in a flirtatious voice,

"Damn," Erik muttered; he had gone his whole life without physical contact, but now that he had had taste of what it was he was not ready to give it up for anything, and so, with the promise of great sex later on, I got Erik out of the bathroom.

The instant I saw him I knew my verdict; he did look like a confused albino who had gone out of the house half dressed, but he was my confused naked albino and I loved him for it.

"you look fine," I reassured him,

"You are a liar," He told me,

"No sweetie…I am a _lawyer_," I smiled at him

"And the difference is?" he teased me,

I hit him on his pale chest and then handed him a shirt to wear. It was not a Hawaiian shirt for anyone who is wondering, Hawaiian shirts were sent from the fashion devil to plague man and woman kind along with stretch pants, fanny packs, and white wash jeans.

I quickly changed into my bathing suit. Upon seeing my two piece, Erik decided that perhaps bathing suits were not such wicked things after all. My friends were waiting for us downstairs,

"Another two minutes and we were going to send up a search party to look for you two," Jackie said,

"Maybe they could have found my dignity somewhere," Erik said, he was still not thrilled about revealing so much of his body,

Basically all that was on the schedule for the day was beach beach and more beach, so we carried everything we absolutely needed; chairs, towels, drinks, food, books, this months copy of VOGUE, last months copy of VOGUE, a radio, sunscreen, a giant yellow beach umbrella, sarongs in varying lengths…

"My God it looks like we are going off into the desert with all these things," Erik sighed as he humbly helped to carry most of it…poor man,

"I'm sorry honey, do you need help with anything?" I asked him; he was carrying the giant umbrella, the radio, and a huge cooler,

"No, no," he sighed, "Or didn't I tell you? I am actually part mule,"

I laughed as we trudged down to the beach, looking no doubt like a group of wondering nomads…a group of wondering nomads in Gucci.

As we stepped onto the beach Erik for a moment forgot all his reservations and apprehensions about the day; the feel of the sand between his toes was unlike anything he had ever experienced before; it was soft and smooth and felt good to walk on. Then there was the beach itself; he had never been to one like this and the salt water and the fresh air and the crying gulls created an environment he actually…liked.

What he did not like were all the other people who were now on the beach. It was a hot August day, so the beach was filled with families, couples, twenty somethings basking themselves in the sun and thirty somethings passing the sunscreen.

The moment we passed the first group of people on our way down to the water Erik felt like they were all thinking he must be an albino freak, and even the calming lull of the ocean could not relax his nerves.

As he looked around Erik realized he was in the world he had always been desperate to penetrate; the world where happy people led happy, normal lives away from dark catacombs and gloomy still lakes. This was the sunny world he had hoped to try to share with Christine; but she had not had the power to bring him up into it. Erik glanced sidelong at me and wondered what power I had that I was able to do what she could not.

We stopped when we got closer to the ocean. Erik lay down the radio and the cooler and proceeded to jab the umbrella into the sand. I have to say I was impressed with how deep he could drive the thing into the sand; I had never thought of Erik as being that strong, but I supposed he was not a weakling.

We set up our chairs; though my three friends stayed in the relative shade of the umbrella, I wanted to be in the sun and that meant Erik in the sun as well,

The next few moments were devoted to putting on sunscreen. Erik watched as I rubbed the white lotion onto my body, "Will you get my back?" I asked him and turned so my back was facing him and handed him the bottle,

Erik supposed I wanted his to rub the stuff onto my back, so he did, enjoying very much the feel of it. Then I turned to him, "Alright, now I will do you," I traded the bottle of eight I had been using on myself for a bottle of forty five; the last thing I needed was for Erik to get a sun burn; it had been hard enough convincing him to come down to the beach without having the prospect of turning into a lobster.

For a moment Erik did not move; in his mind he was weighing the embarrassment of taking off his shirt against the pleasure of me rubbing the sun tan lotion onto him. In the end pleasure won out and he removed his shirt. I made sure I covered every inch of his back so it would not burn.

"Alright, your done," I said and Erik sat back in his chair, "Now let me do your face," I reached for him, planning on rubbing the lotion into his marred cheek,

Without thinking Erik grabbed my wrist almost painfully tightly and prevented me from touching him. I looked up at him in wonder as he held on so tightly I could not move my arm away from him. In his eyes I read an expression of pain and fear,

Erik hated it when people touched his face, and even though it was me, and I had touched him plenty, there was still that gut reaction he could not shake, now made stronger by being out in public. Quickly however Erik recovered and he let go of me,

I stared at him and for the first time it really dawned on me that something quite terrible must have happened to him involving his face; something more than public ridicule to make him fear a touch like that,

Sensing that it was not the right moment to bring this up, I handed Erik the bottle, "Just rub this all over, to make sure you don't get burnt,"

Erik nodded and quite hated himself; I had touched his face before, I had kissed his face before, but he felt that me rubbing his marred face was just too much. He knew he was being ridiculous, but part of him still tensed every time I touched his face.

Erik and I lay silent for awhile, listening to the conversation of Jackie, Rebecca and Susan as they surveyed passing men on the beach. Rebecca wanted the lifeguard who was surrounded by twenty something girls with dark tans, Jackie wanted the guy with the dog, and Susan wanted the relationship the guy and his wife and kids had; and then I realized I had exactly what I wanted already. I was happy, our relationship was good, and we were good for each other. And then I wondered, was I good for him? Or had I been forcing him to do too much against his will? I had thought this whole trip would be fun for him, but if he felt so uncomfortable that he did not even want me to touch his face, had I been making him do too much?

"Erik?" I said softly and I taped him lightly on the arm,

"What?" he had been laying still for the past minutes, hoping I was not angry with him for grabbing my wrist,

"Can we go for a walk?" I think this was the first time I had asked him if we could do something instead of just telling him we were going to do something,

"Of course," he was glad I wanted to talk with him,

"Girls, we will be back!" I waved goodbye to them as Erik and I left to walk down the beach,

He took my hand as we walked in silence; Erik thought that there could be nothing better than this, walking down a beach hand in hand with me. He wished that the whole rest of the world would go away so he could enjoy it more and not feel so self-conscious with every step he took.

I was headed toward a strip of the beach which was less inhabited so we could talk comfortably. When we finally reached an area where there were few people I stopped,

"Can we stay here and talk awhile?" I asked and Erik nodded. I untied the sarong I had been wearing and lay it down for us both to sit on.

"Erik, I could not help but notice, earlier, you did not want me to touch your face," I thought I would get right to the point,

Erik sighed, "It was silly of me; sometimes I just…I didn't hurt you did I?" He gently took the wrist he had grabbed earlier and inspected it,

"No, no, of course not," I said, and he softly brushed his lips against my wrist before returning it to my lap,

"Erik...I think I may owe you an apology," I began,

He stared at me, "why on earth would you owe me an apology?"

"Am I making you do too much?" I just let the question roll off of my tongue before I was even sure I wanted it to,

"You are not making me do anything…except wear this ridiculous outfit," He said honestly,

"And it makes you so uncomfortable that you don't even want me to touch your face?" I asked him,

Erik knew his answer was yes, but not in the way that I was thinking. He felt so exposed he was more on edge than usual, and when he had seen my hand rise to his face he remember a time when every touch to his twisted cheek had been a wicked one,

"Olivia, I do not think you grasp how few times people have touched my face," he began to explain,

I remained silent and waited for him to say something else, but he did not, so I said, "but you are not mad at me are you? I am not making you do too many things you don't want to am I? "

"No," He said firmly, and he cupped my face with his hand, "you are the best thing that has ever happened to me," What more could I want him to say? He was perfect. He kissed me and I leaned into him, happy I was not doing anything to upset him. New Yorkers are known to demand everything they want immediately, and I was glad that I was not treating my boyfriend the same way I treated the guy who took my order for Chinese.

"So what do you want to do now?" I asked him,

He thought for a moment, staring off in the direction of the ocean, "Well, I have this damn thing on, I might as well use it,"

"Really?" I asked excitedly, I had not found anyone who would go in the ocean with me in ages,

"Really," He grabbed my hand and jumped to his feet, brining me up with him. The water was freezing, but no more cold Erik thought than the lake below the opera. Thus, he was able to enter the water much faster than me. Eventually my body went numb and we were swimming out beyond where the waves began to crash against the beach.

Erik actually enjoyed himself more than he thought he would; there was something exhilarating about it all and he was suddenly hit with the sense that he was finally really living.

"So it looked like you two had a fun day," Rebecca said; I was down stairs talking with her and Jackie as we tried to help Susan with dinner, Erik was taking a shower, alone this time.

"We did…Oh God, I don't ever mean to ditch you guys," I said, suddenly realizing that I had been neglecting my friends slightly,

"No, it's alright, your in love," Susan crooned as she cooked

"Do remember us when you move into your little Town House with all your perfect kids," Jackie said with a wry smile,

There was a knock on the door,

"It's open!" Susan called, and we heard someone enter,

We all looked up in shock at once. John Grove knew Susan's friend who had let us use the house, so ten unanswered phone calls after the wedding he decided to try to force amends. John also had a house in the Hamptons, and by the look on Susan's face I could see that what had once been a major attraction about John was now not seeming so good,

"J-John, what are you doing here?" Susan asked bewildered,

"Susan, I miss you," He said, "I have called you about a hundred times, why haven't you called me back?"

"You called me ten times John," Susan corrected him, "And why I haven't called you back is none of your business,"

"Susan, what about all the good times we had together? We were so right for each other! We even agreed on how many kids we wanted to have," I knew that if you played the family card with Susan, you would probably win,

"John…you, well you…" Susan began,

"Well I what?" He demanded, his voice suddenly growing angry, "I didn't do anything to deserve what you did to me," he thought of the painful taxi door to the groin,

"John, I want you to leave," Susan said,

"Not until you agree to go out with me again,"

"No, John, I can't be with a man who is…mean," Susan would accept nothing less than prince charming for her husband,

"Oh come on! That other guy was a showoff and I was just trying to put him in his place," John Grove said angrily,

"John, you have to go," Susan insisted, and she placed her hand around his arm and attempted to pull him to the door,

"Susan, can't we go and talk in private?" He asked, and he grabbed her roughly by the shoulders,

"John…let go," Susan insisted, and we decided we had been silent long enough,

"Hey ass hole!" I yelled at him, "She said she wants you to leave," I decided to play the lawyer card, "And anything else you do from this moment on can be considered harassment; and you can bet your ass that I will created a lot of problems for you and your business if you don't leave,"

"Stay out of this Olivia," He cried; apparently he was willing to see if I was bluffing or not,

"John, I think it is time for you to go," Susan said again,

"No," he said angrily, "We are going to go to a quite room and work this all out," He began to force Susan backwards,

Then there was a rush of color which flew past me. The girls and I had a lot of cards to play against John Grove; we could call the police, I could sue his Ralph Lauren pants off; but there was one thing that we did not have that Erik did; the deck.

Erik had heard the voice of a man coming from the downstairs, and when he recognized the voice he had come close, stopping only to slightly dry off and throw on his pants. He stood in the room unnoticed for a moment and his eyes dead locked on John Grove; he had yelled at me, he was tormenting a friend of mine, and he was a douche bag, as Jackie had once so eloquently put it, and he had to die.

Erik grabbed John Grove roughly by one shoulder and turned him; John had only a second to take in Erik before Erik's fist hit him square in the jaw. He stumbled backwards and cursed; but Erik was not finished; John Grove had come into our happy home uninvited, and Erik only knew one thing to do with uninvited guests; other than Punjab them.

He seized John and quite literally threw him out the front door and then slammed it in his face. Turning around he faced four stunned faces; I had not known he had it in him. I had thought of Erik as a proud, intelligent man, but I had never seen him as a fighter. He stood by the door, and I noticed he had gained a lot of color that day, and as his body was not white he looked like much less of an albino freak.

"Are you alright Susan?" He asked, assuming that was what he was supposed to ask,

"Yes I'm fine," she said, rubbing one of her shoulders slightly where John had grabbed her,

Erik nodded, "Good then," he came to me and wrapped his arms around me, more because he liked to hold me than anything else, "I will be down in a minute; save me something to do," He nodded his head toward the meal we were going to prepare,

He went back upstairs,

"Susan, are you alright?" we all asked her something like this at the same time and embraced her,

"I'm fine," Susan said, "Olivia," she looked imploringly at me, "_Marry_ him,"

"I am going to try," I said to her as we hugged her and she wiped her eyes,

Upstairs Erik realized that he had run down to help without putting his shirt on. As he finished dressing he realized that he did not really care; and he was glad to have gotten back at John Grove. And then, Erik had a thought. Maybe I did not possess a power which pulled him into society and allowed him to function like a normal human being. Maybe he possessed that power; maybe he had had the right cards in his hand all along, and I had just taught him to play them correctly.

The idea that there was something in _him_ which allowed him to live like any other man was empowering.

"I mustn't forget my teacher though," Erik said quietly to himself as he thought of me. He would need to show his gratitude somehow…perhaps, he thought, with a ring.


	13. The Fall

_Sorry this took so long but I lost all my story and then had to retype it! There are probably a million spelling mistakes but I just wanted to get it up! (that is not meant to sound dirty!) _

The Fall

The fall in New York; a time when the maze of concrete disappears behind all the striking reds and oranges and yellows of the changing leaves. And if you are spending it with the one person you care about more than anything else, it is the most romantic time of the year.

I was sharing it with the one person I cared about more than anything else. Erik and I had come back from the Hamptons even more infatuated with each other than before. He had it in his mind that soon, he was going to ask me to marry him, and I had it in my mind that soon, I was going to say yes.

Erik had sort of unofficially moved into my apartment. There has never been a distinct moment when I had asked him to move in and when all of his things had been brought over, it had just happened. We spent all our time together and some how, all his things had simply found their way to come next to mine.

Of course, I could not spend all the time with Erik I wanted to. His firm had just landed a very important contract, and he was working very long hours. So, on some nights I found myself alone, work finished, curled up on the sofa under one of his sweaters that smelled like him like one of those lovesick fools I always hated.

The weekends were what we lived for; a time when we could set aside work and just enjoy each other's company. So, one breezy Sunday afternoon, we bundled up and went out. Though I missed the summer heat at times, I decided that Erik never looked better than when he was in jeans and a black sweater, so I guess I can stand the fall.

Normally we just ambled around with no specific purpose on the weekends, but this Sunday was different. This time we were on a mission…

"What about this one?" I asked as I pointed; Erik and I were picking out a pumpkin to add to the décor of our apartment. I also planned on carving it with him, something he told me he had never done before,

"No, that one's not round enough," Erik said,

"Alright Mr. I'm and architect and everything has to have a perfect geometric shape, you pick one," I teased him,

"Okay," he smiled and move through the selection of pumpkins, "This one," he held one up,

I sighed; he had managed to find what was probably the most perfect one there.

Erik paid for the pumpkin and we began to walk back to the apartment. We were planning on dropping off the pumpkin and then going somewhere for lunch, when Erik got distracted,

"Wait!" he said as we passed a shop,

I turned to see what he was looking at. It was a pet store window, and in it sat a sad looking shaggy white and black dog. The sign next to it said, "free to a good home."

"Erik, you cannot be thinking…" But I could tell that he was,

"Let's just go and have a look at it Olivia," He said, turning to me and smiling, in his eyes a glow that was normally present in boys before Christmas. I knew I loved him too much to say no, and he knew it to.

We entered the pet store. It smelled like cat food and the sound of a million birds chirping assaulted our ears. Erik quickly found the gloomy looking dog and knelt by it, stroking its fur,

"Erik…" I protested; not that I had anything against dogs, there were just too many questions nagging at my mind, "who will take care of it when we are at work?"

"He is not a puppy Olivia," Erik defended his desire, "He would not have to be watched all day, and I can get up early and take him outside; I get up before you do anyway," He had a point,

A moment later one of the store attendants came over to us, "Can I help you?" He asked,

"Why is this dog free?" I asked him, "Is there something wrong with it?"

"No," the man said honestly, "He is just not a pure blooded dog; and he is too big, most people now only want those tiny little dogs…nobody wanted him, so the basic policy is we give them some time up for adoption, and if nobody takes him, we will put his to sleep,"

Up until that point I had been dead against it, but once I looked into the sad dog's brown eyes I could not say no. Erik straightened up immediately,

"I'll take him,"

So, some thirty minutes later we left the store with the dog, who's name turned out to be Sammy and who's mood had considerably improved since he realized he was going home with us, about a millions products for the dog's care, and one pumpkin.

Erik had the dog on a leash as we walked home. I was suddenly struck with how 'family' we had suddenly become; and doggy makes three.

When we arrived at the apartment I was struck with something else; Sammy's delight in immediately jumping onto the sofa and curling up in a ball,

"I hope you know, you are going to have to clean up after him," I said to Erik as I through about all the dog hair which was now on the sofa,

"So now I have to clean up after you and the dog?" Erik teased me. I turned around indignantly to face him, but then he kissed me and I forgot why I had been angry.

A week passed with our new dog; everything went as planned. Erik woke early to walk him and he only once went in our apartment, and he never ate any of my shoes. In truth I liked having the dog there; I really did feel that we had become a kind of family.

One Tuesday night, I came home while Erik was forced to stay later for work. I had done a little shopping; we needed milk and I needed cigarettes among other things, so I arrived home with my hands full and the moment I entered the door Sammy began jumping around, begging me to take him for a walk.

Between the purchases in my hand and the things I had brought home from work and the dog, I was in no condition to answer the phone which began to ring the moment I entered. I let the machine get it, but then my heart froze when I heard who it was,

"Olivia," the voice of Mark Berry, my ex, came out, "Olivia? If you are there please pick up…this in very important…I need to speak to you…" his voice sounded desperate, "I think I made a mistake Olivia, and I want to talk to you, I think I made a mistake…" I felt a thousand emotions rush to my head, "Call me back Olivia…I really miss you," and then he hung up.

"That Bastard!" I cried aloud to Sammy, how dare he? How did he have the nerve to call me after taking so many years of my life away from me; he had already made me miserable once and I was not going to let him do it again.

I made to delete the message, but as I reached for the button an involuntary image came before me of all the good times I had shared with Mark. But that was over, I reminded myself, I was with Erik now and I was happy at last. Delete.

Unfortunately, I could not erase the massage from my head as easily as I had erased it from my machine. His voice kept playing over and over again…he had made a mistake. He was damn right he had, he had broken my heart. But I was not going to make the same mistake all over again. I was not going to call Mark back.

I took Sammy for a quick walk; it was quite cold outside, and then I returned to the apartment. I finished my work and got ready for bed. To my intense aggravation, the message was still in my head, it was on mental repeat or something.

All I wanted was for Erik to come home so I could forget about Mark and his message. I curled up on the sofa and waited, Sammy sitting beside me. It felt good to have something I knew Erik cared so much about sitting next to me.

I had a hard time staying awake however; one minute I was watching Jon on the Daily Show talk about Mess O Potamia and the next I was dreaming.

Erik came in not long after I began to sleep. He quietly crept over to where I was on the sofa, moving Sammy so he could sit next to me,

"Are you sleeping?" he whispered softly,

I half was, and my response was a slight shift as I nestled deeper into the sofa for greater warmth, "You look very beautiful when you are sleeping," Erik said as he gently ran his hand over my back. I arched into his touch and, still half asleep, I leaned back until my head was resting on his chest.

"I thought about you a lot today…I always think about you and I wonder what you are doing," Erik said gently as he watched me fall into a deeper sleep against him, "I miss you all the time,"

There were the same words; when Mark said them it sent my head spinning, but when Erik said them, it worked on my heart. I loved him, and I was glad he was home. I sighed contentedly and buried my head deeper into him.

I heard him chuckle softly, and then I was in the air. He lifted me off the sofa and carried me into the bedroom. He tucked me into the bed, and after one kiss on the cheek and a gentle "I love you" he left the room for the kitchen, in search of something before he came to bed.

The bed had never felt so comfortable, but suddenly I was awake. I wrapped myself in my blanket and stumbled out of the room. Erik had turned down the TV and had his head buried in the refrigerator.

"Erik," I called his name softly but it made him jump all the same,

"Did I wake you?" He asked, pulling a carton of leftover Chinese food out of the refrigerator,

"No, no," I smiled and walked over to him. I took the carton out of his hand, I may not have been the type of girl who could cook for her man, but I could warm up his food for him, "How was your day?"

"Long," he sighed, "I couldn't wait to come home," he came over to me and put his hands on my shoulders, "It's getting really cold out there; and windy as hell to,"

"I know! I can hear it! It's kinda scary," I admitted with a smile, taking the food out of the microwave and offering it to him,

He smiled at me and put his hand under my chin, "_You're_ afraid of the wind?" he laughed,

"No," I said sheepishly, "But what if I was? Would you protect me?"

"From the wind?" he laughed,

"Yes,"

"And how would I do that?" he took the plate out of my hands and set it on the counter, then he slid his arms around my waist,

"Build me something with high wall to keep out the wind," I laughed at how ridiculous I sounded,

"I would build you anything you asked for; I'll build you a tall tower to live in and then I can keep you all to myself," He pressed me as close to him as he could. It was normally a scary thing to hear; and usually when the girl gets locked in the tower she needs to be rescued; but I would have stayed in his tower.

That night we sat on the sofa together, and I realized for the first time that this was it; I had finally found the man I was going to sit with every night; this was it. I leaned my head against his shoulder on the sofa; this was going to be the rest of my life.

The next day, my past life continued to interfere with the rest of my life. Erik and I finally managed to synchronize our lunch schedules and I was waiting for him outside of my building when…

"Mark?" I looked at him stunned,

"Olivia; I was hoping I could see you," He did not look like his together self; he looked disheveled and rumpled; his shirt was miss-buttoned and his hair was a mess,

"Well you can't see me Mark," I glared at him, "I am waiting for someone,"

"I only want…wait, waiting for someone…waiting for who?" He was distracted,

"My God Mark!" I shook my head, "Did you think I was just going to sit around and wait for you to come back to me? I've moved on Mark, and I need you to be gone right now," I continued to glare at him, hoping that Erik would not come while Mark was still there,

"Olivia, I need you to listen to me…things have not been going well for a long time and I keep thinking about you…"

"Mark!" I shouted, "You think, after what you did to me, you can just walk back into my life?"

I turned and started to walk away, but Mark grabbed me by the shoulders and held me there, "Mark…let me go," I insisted,

"Olivia, I just want to talk," he held me as I continued to struggle against him,

"Olivia?" I sighed with relief as I heard Erik's voice come from behind me,

"Erik!" I turned around and Mark let me go. I rushed into Erik before he had the chance to say anything and pressed my lips to his; half in relief that he was there, and half because I finally could rub a winning relationship in Mark's face,

Erik did not feel the relief I felt. Instead he felt a million questions fall on his shoulders; who was this man and what was he doing with his hands on me? Erik and I parted and I turned back to face Mark. Erik wrapped an arm possessively around me and held me so tightly I actually found it hard to breath,

"Mark, this is Erik Duval, Erik, Mark," I made this awkward introduction and the two men stared at each other; one with amazement and one with eyes that could have killed. I didn't know it, but Erik was mentally ripping Mark Berry limb from limb.

"You-you two are together then? That's…that's wonderful," he clearly did not think anything about it was wonderful,

"Yes, we are," Erik answered before I could say anything, and in a tone of such finality it almost made my knees weak,

"Well then…" Mark shifted and then looked pleadingly into my eyes, something Erik quickly noticed and so he said,

"We have to go Olivia, we are wasting time," He pulled me roughly away before Mark could say another word or we could exchange another look.

Erik and I walked silently down the street. He was angry, any man who came near what was his had to go, and Mark had some too close,

"So, who was that?" He asked me coldly,

"Mark Berry, my ex," I admitted,

"And what was he doing?" He spoke just as harshly,

"He just wanted to talk; I kept telling him to go," I suddenly realized how angry he was, "Erik…there is no need to be mad,"

We stopped walking and I turned him to face me, but I could not get him to look into my eyes, "Erik…believe me, you have nothing to worry about, Mark is just…believe me I don't want anything to do with him,"

He finally looked right at me. He turned those green blue eyes right into me and I felt like I was falling right into his soul. Trust was exchanged in that moment; trust that we would not hurt each other and that we knew we were meant for each other.

Lunch proved enough to erase all awkwardness and Erik and I said goodbye with a passionate kiss before I entered my office again. However, when I got to my desk, I saw the hallmark of a desperate man; flowers. There was a giant bouquet waiting for me. There was a card; they were from Mark. I threw them away.

The stars had aligned that brisk fall day because Erik did not have to stay late. We were able to go home together. The wind really was something; it was blowing the fall leaves all over and the sky had turned an eerie purple color and it was getting dark.

It was a pleasant ride home; we were both quite tired and we leaned against each other for support. We reached the apartment and had begun to prepare dinner when the phone rang. We both had our hands dirty so we let the machine get it; something I regretted instantly when I heard Mark's voice.

"Olivia…please pick up!" He was begging, "I don't know who that guy was but he cannot be right for you,"

Erik stood fuming for a moment as he listened to the message, and then he whorled around and picked up the phone,

"Listen you bastard," he said in a voice that made my blood run cold, "Olivia is no longer yours to call, she will not speak to you, and if you call here again you will regret it, is that clear?" And then he slammed the phone down on the receiver.

I did not quite know what to do; protective is cute but I couldn't help but think Erik was being a bit extreme. What I did not know was that Erik felt like the same thing was about to happen all over again. Just when he had thought he and Christine would be happy forever together, Raoul had swooped in and taken her away. Now he was happy again, and he was not going to let anyone swoop down and take me. The poor man did not even realize he had nothing to worry about.

"Erik, you didn't have to do that," I said,

"Didn't have to!" He cried, "So what am I supposed to do? Let him call you all the time and try to take you away?"

I stared at him, "He is not going to take me away," I said firmly,

Erik turned to me; he did not believe me. He believed that if Mark offered me a life with him I would take it, because deep down Erik still felt like he was only half a man, and the only experience he had had with a woman had turned out in her leaving him. Erik grabbed me by the shoulders,

"Promise me that you will not speak to him again,"

I thought he was being ridiculous, but I loved him, so I promised.

That night Erik and I made love, but it was different than all the other times, something about him was different. He was more intense than usual. His touch possessed me somehow, and with every kiss and every touch I felt myself spinning downward, until my body and soul were under his complete control.

The things he did to me that night were beyond compare; the way he stripped me roughly and then pushed me down on the bed while he stood, watching my body tremble in the cold room, begging for the warmth of his touch. That night, Erik managed to take a piece of me away with him and keep it under his control. My mind fell away from the rest of my body and all I knew was my own heart beat.

I was close to loosing myself forever, but just before Erik pushed me over the edge, he stopped. It was almost painful; I felt such a longing for him. I squirmed beneath him, trying to make him move again, but he held me still.

"You belong to me," he hissed in my ear, and then with one final motion he let me fall right over the edge.

"Honey, he is going weird, let him go," Rebecca told me the next day; we were shopping for something for Rebecca to wear to the upcoming benefit she would be attending,

"I think it was only because of Mark," I insisted as I waited outside the dressing room, "He just feels threatened,"

"If he feels that threatened, you don't need him," Rebecca said as she came out of the room, "What do you think?" she spun in her dress,

"Looks fabulous," I said, "I can't dump him,"

Rebecca stared at me; the look of 'you are loving dangerously' in her eyes. I wasn't sure however; I was in love with Erik. It was too late to back out; I just had to pray this would not turn into a big thing.

Unfortunately, my prayers were going to fall on deaf ears. Erik continued to be obsessed with the idea of Mark Berry. And, stupid Mark, kept on calling. He had stopped calling my home phone and started to call me at work and on my cell phone. Every time it was the same; he wanted me to call him.

Finally I did, just to shut him up. My phone conversation with him went just as expected; the little blond secretary was not all she was cracked up to be and he wanted me back. I told him off; I told him to stop calling.

He didn't.

"I think he is doing better," I commented; it was finally Sunday and Erik and I were in the park, trying to teach Sammy how to play fetch. He was getting better; he went after the ball when we threw it, but then he would run past us and refuse to give up the ball,

"Isn't he supposed to bring us the ball?" Erik asked as Sammy ran past up once again,

"Well…yeah…but at least he got the ball,"

Erik smiled; he was smiling less these days and it was good to see that smile, "Your quite optimistic today,"

"Something in the air," I smiled back, at which point Sammy rocketed into my side and dropped the ball,

Erik picked up the ball and threw it again. Sammy raced after it, and we continued to walk in silence together, side by side. I knew there was still a bit of trouble between us; Erik could not seem to grasp the fact that despite his advances toward me, I was not at all interested in starting something with Mark Berry.

I thought it was best if I brought it out in the open;

"Erik, I think we should talk," I began slowly,

"About what?" he asked me in the tone that says; I know exactly about what but I am not going to make this easy,

"About Mark," I said, feeling like I was saying a word that was taboo,

"What about the man?" Erik asked, and his face turned as red as the leaves on the fall trees,

"I think you think I want to be with him again…."

He interrupted me, "I think no such thing Olivia," he did not want to admit to me that he felt threatened,

"Erik," I stopped him and grabbed him by the shoulders; I wanted him to hear me loud and clear, "I love you, and I will never want to be with any other man, least of all Mark Berry, so I want you to stop acting like I am going to leave you,"

Erik looked hard at me; after Christine he had thought he should steer clear of love, but he had fallen into the heart's trap anyway. Now, he thought, he risked loosing his heart again with the intrusion of Mark Berry. He worried that he would take me away and leave him a mess all over again.

But Erik had fallen out of most of his old ways; with Christine he had loved her and not trusted her to be faithful to him. So, he had resorted to spying and trying to control her, which had eventually led to heart break.

Erik knew now that love meant trust, and that if he loved me and I said he had nothing to worry about than he should believe me.

So, Erik nodded and put his arm around my shoulders, vanquishing his worries about Mark, and together we enjoyed our fall afternoon.

The next week, Erik continued his grueling work schedule and so I was forced to go home by myself.

Wednesday night I returned home with my work and some other items I had purchased. I heard Sammy barking all the way down the hall and I hurried to the door so I could see what was the matter with him. When I reached the door I fiddled with the lock for a moment, having to turn it one way and then the other and then back again to open the door.

The moment I got inside I saw why Sammy was barking.

"So…you two got a dog?" Mark Berry was standing in my apartment, a smirk on his face and his hand on Sammy, trying to quite the dog. I threw my things down and Sammy immediately came to me,

"What the hell are you doing here?" I was angry as hell and I didn't care if he knew,

"You wouldn't return my calls so I thought I would pay you a visit; I still have the key from when we were dating,"

"You mean from when we were engaged, and then you left me," I reminded him hotly, "And we don't have anything to talk about, so if you would just leave," I motioned to the still open door,

"Olivia, I know you are still in love with me," Mark took a step closer to me,

"Oh my god," I muttered in angry disbelief; men sometimes!

"I know you are because we had something together, and feelings like that don't just go away; I still love you Olivia," he stood right in front of me and rested his hands on my shoulders,

I threw them off in one quick motion, "I don't love you Mark, and I never will again,"

"But you did once," he replaced his hands and stared into my eyes; without warning I fell into the trap of his dark brown eyes, and suddenly I remembered a time when I did love him. I had already stopped thinking about it and was going to force him to leave when he grabbed me, pressing me against the counter behind me and forcing his lips to mine.

My mind was reeling and I tried to push him off of me but he would not budge. Suddenly, Mark flew off of me, and in a rush of color I saw Erik punch him with blind fury over and over again in the face. He shoved Mark, who was bleeding from the nose, out the door and slammed it.

"Thank God you came," I rushed to Erik but he pushed me away,

"Explain yourself Olivia," He said in a cold voice,

"Erik…you can't think I wanted him to do that," I looked pleadingly up at him, but his green blue eyes showed no compassion,

"I don't know what to think Olivia," he felt like I had broken his trust and his heart into a million pieces, "I have to go," he said, and as he stood in the door, he looked down at what he had been holding in his hands and I saw for the first time; a dozen red roses, "These are for you," he said stiffly, "As an apology for how foolish I have been acting lately," he let them fall to the floor and then he walked away,

"Erik wait!" I tried to get him to stop and I chased him into the hallway, but he vanished into his apartment before I could stop him.

Erik felt as though the whole world had fallen down around him. He had finally given me his trust; in fact the whole reason he had come home when he did was that he had gotten out of work early to surprise me and apologize…now he felt like he had been oh so wrong.

He had finally given me all his heart; he had trusted me, he had thought I was the perfect goddess and that I was finally truly his, and then he had seen me in the arms of another man.

When he got into his apartment; a place he had not been to in some time and was now cold and unfamiliar, he threw whatever was in his reach and let it hit the walls and fall to the floor. He ignored my pounding on his door for half an hour until I was completely exhausted.

He felt completely crushed. This was worse than Christine, he decided as he sat on his sofa; his initial rage subsiding. With Christine, he had known deep down that Christine had not loved him. He had been certain that I had. He did not understand why I would hurt him so badly, and he would not listen to the explanation I was shouting through his door. All he heard was a pounding in his ears. Seeing me being kissed by another man had completely broken his heart.

When he came to New York, he felt like he had been able to start completely over. He had been given a new life he could actually feel good about, and a woman who loved him, but with this, he felt like everything he had come to believe in had been shattered like a broken mirror. He hung his head in his hands for half the night. Eventually, he went into his room and picked up the blue box from Tiffany's. He opened it and stared at the engagement ring he had bought for me, and then he shut the box. He put it away where he could not see it.

I returned to my room in a state of abject despair. I paced my apartment and tried to figure out how the best relationship I had ever had had deteriorated. I wept unabashedly as I cursed Mark and wondered what Erik was thinking. Finding every answer to every question so painful I could hardly breathe, I spotted the roses on the floor. It was too much; we had been so close to making it…damn Mark! I sank down next to the fallen roses and continued to cry until I could not cry anymore.

Just like the roses from his hand, my relationship with Erik had taken the fall.


	14. New York State of mind

New York State of Mind

The next morning when I woke up my whole body hurt. I had been crying all night and my feelings had only gotten worse, I had not calmed down at all. Then I had a sudden burst of hope; today was a new day after all…maybe Erik had forgiven me! Or maybe he would listen to me now.

I ran to his door still wearing the clothes I had been the day before. I rapped on his door and called out his name, but it was all in vain because Erik was not there. He had left early, not wanting to risk seeing me, because if he saw me he was afraid he would fall to pieces completely. I finally had to give up and I trudged back to my apartment. Sammy seemed to realize that something was wrong; he came and licked my hand in an attempt to make me feel better; I wished it worked.

Erik was already on his way to his office; he had never felt so alone and foolish in his life. He had been building up an idea in his head; that in this new world he could flourish and be loved and be a member of society. Now he felt that had all been false, and that he had been a fool for believing in himself and a new life; the same thing had happened to him all over again.

Broken, Erik slowly walked to his office. He hardly knew what he was doing there or how, just the day before, he had thought he belonged here. He wondered how he had moved around in society without concern, how could he have begun not to care what people thought when he walked by? Now he just wanted to hide.

It was a dark day outside, and when Erik reached his office the curtains were still drawn. He sat in the dark room and let his feelings of hopelessness and despair wash over him. He snorted mockingly at himself; he was crying in darkness again.

I forced myself to change clothes in an attempt to look like a real human being and not the crushed piece of gum on the bottom of a Manolo Blahnik shoe I felt like.

At work it was all I could think about, and I was determined to speak to Erik over lunch.

Erik was still shaking in his office when Karen Hegel, the secretary Erik had met on his fist interview, passed by. Karen had always had a little thing for Erik; she found his slight accent and his tall frame as sexy as I had. Up until this point however, she had been aware that the rich man of her fantasy had been in a relationship with me. She eyed Erik through the glass of his office slyly; she surmised that we were over.

She knocked lightly on the door, "Erik?" she had spoken to him before and he had insisted she use his first name, "May I come in?"

"I don't think so…" Erik said but then he looked up and saw that she was already in his office; she switched on his desk light and sat in the chair in front of his desk. Erik quickly tried to compose himself, but Karen Hegel knew he had been crying.

"What do you need?" he asked in a business like tone,

"Nothing, you just seem upset…do you want to talk about something?" she spoke sweetly,

"No" he answered gruffly,

"Did you break up with…what was her name?" Karen urged with an understanding smile,

"Olivia…and yes, yes I did," He felt his voice shake,

"Why?" Karen would not stop until she made him cry again, and then she could embrace him in the sprit of helping,

"She…I found her kissing her ex," Erik blurted out; feeling that saying it maybe would make him feel better. It did not however, and he began to tear again. Karen moved to his side of the desk and put her arms around him. In truth, she had been waiting out this relationship like most people waited out store items until they went on sale. She had known we would not last forever; no one ever did. So, she had positioned herself deftly, befriending Erik, which had been hard at first but then she had won out, and now she was swooping in for the kill.

"I am so sorry," Karen whispered, and Erik, who needed a friend more than anything else, allowed himself to lean on her shoulder.

I tried to call his office a hundred times before lunch, but none of my calls would go through. Erik ignored them. I went to his office at lunch, but I was not even allowed to go up to his office. I was not aware of it, but Karen Hegel had her mind on my rich, well dressed architect and basically secretary black listed me. She made damn sure no one would let me up into the building. They said I needed someone to say it was alright for me to come up, and as Erik would not answer my phone calls, I had no way of seeing him.

In complete despair I returned to my office. I felt like screaming; all that had happened had been so wrong, so unfair. Why had Erik come home at that exact moment, why not a moment later or a second earlier? Than we would still be together. Then I would not feel like screaming until my lungs burst.

Since I had met Erik, I had felt something I had never through I would feel. My love for him had seemed so right, so ideal; I did not understand the idea of it being over. I could not accept that it was over. I wouldn't. I loved him, how could he leave me? How could this be over? We had been on the verge of getting married; he wouldn't leave me over this. I tried to assure myself over and over; he would not leave me, he would be mad for awhile but then he would come back to me.

Erik was thinking of no such thing. He never wanted to see me again. He loved me, but he did not believe he could stand to be with someone who had hurt him so badly. Erik, having now felt searing, heart breaking pain twice in his life, realized that what was best for him was to distance himself from what hurt him. There would be no more love in his life, because the end was too painful.

Determined, I waited for Erik at the entrance of his office. I figured that he had to come out sometime. Eventually, I realized that he was working late, and that it would be a long time before he came out. However, the pain in my heart was greater than the nipping cold that was making me tremble.

So I waited. I waited as the sky grew darker and darker and the wind picked up. I sat on a bench and shivered, afraid to leave the door for even a moment in case that was the moment Erik picked to leave.

At ten thirty, I was beginning to realize what a fooling thing I was doing, but then Erik came out. He did not notice me until I was right next to him.

"Erik?" I wrapped my arms around myself as I stared at him,

He looked at me with cold eyes; he wanted to erase everything he had with me, because then he could pretend that he did not hurt so badly, "What in hell are you doing here?" he asked,

"I was waiting for you,"

"Don't you finish work at seven thirty?"

"Yes,"

Erik stared at me, "You are freezing,"

"Well I needed to speak to you, and you would not return my calls and I could not get into you office, so I waited," I confessed hopelessly,

"You could have waited at your apartment," he was right and I was stupid and freezing for no reason,

"Well, I didn't think of that,"

"Obviously,"

"Erik," I pleaded, it was painful to hear him talk to me with such cold bitterness in his voice, "I don't think you understand; Mark kissed me, I wanted him to stop!"

"Olivia, I understand, go back to him, I don't want to force you to do anything," he stepped up to the curb and waved down a cab,

"I don't want to go back to him! I want to go back to you!" I grabbed his arm with my white fingers and held onto him,

A cab pulled up and Erik opened the door and got in; I got in after him, "You can't come back to me Olivia," Erik said softly,

"Why not?" I was almost in tears again,

"Because you destroyed me!" he yelled, suddenly furious, "I trusted you! And I find you kissing another man! You broke my heart!"

"Erik, I didn't mean to! I didn't want to kiss Mark!" I started to cry again,

Erik sighed; his head was still swimming with hurt, and he could not handle it right now, "Your cold, and your shaking," was all he said, and he wrapped his arm around me, bringing me to his chest where I cried all the way home. But I thought it was a good thing. Physically we were together, though emotionally we were miles apart.

When we got home however he stopped touching me. He refused to speak and he went straight to his door. As hard as I tried, he would not listen to me. He kept kicking himself; Christine had left him and now I had cheated on him in his mind. He kept telling himself that he should have known better.

I got back to my apartment and found I was still shaking; not from cold but from sadness. I picked up the roses from the floor and smelled them. They smelled beautiful, and they looked beautiful to. I put them in a vase on the kitchen table. I decided that I would keep them forever.

Over the next week, Erik continued to outmaneuver me and managed to never see me in the hallway. He came and went like a ghost and I never got the chance to speak to him face to face. He would not return my phone calls either.

From the man I had just run into one morning to the man he had come to mean to me, I had thought Erik was different. I loved him because he was different, and because he was smart and polite and funny and everything I had ever wanted. And now he was one more thing, he was gone.

Just as quickly as he had come into my life he had vanished. I couldn't talk to him, I never saw him; he never even came to check on the dog. Sammy missed him as much as I did.

"Sweetie, you have to get over him; it's been a week," Rebecca told me; the girls had come over to my house to perform an intervention; I was turning into a recluse,

"I wish it was that easy," I said, sipping the wine my friends had brought over to help to cheer me up,

"It is that easy; you loved, and then he turned out to be a creep just like the rest of the men in New York," Jackie said,

"Yeah, but he was my creep," I sighed,

"It's okay! You dated for half a year! It will take half that time to get over him," Susan put in her doctor dating diagnosis,

"I'm sorry, am I trying to get over a relationship or an algorithm?" I asked sarcastically,

"Come on, we're going out," Rebecca pulled me to the door, "We are not going to let you turn into a hermit,"

"Oh is that what I am?" I reluctantly let them drag me out to the latest fabulous restaurant, even through I felt nothing but. It was crowded and loud and I hated every minute of it. However, my friends were having a good time and I felt my sprits begin to lift as the dinner progressed. However, the minute I remember I was not going home to Erik, I sank back into a depression.

Little did I know, but Erik was in the same very restaurant; only in New York. Karen Hegel had finally talked him into going out with her; not as a date, but as friends. She claimed she just wanted him to have a good time and forget about his pain for awhile, but what she was doing was cunningly pulling him to her side. She knew he had no one else, and if she acted quickly, she could fill the void I had left in his heart.

They sat in a corner table in a more secluded part of the restaurant. Erik had requested this; ever since I had managed to shatter all his confidence, along with his heart, he had been much more reluctant to be seen in public, and though going out to a restaurant was defiantly very public, Erik felt sick to his stomach and he did not think he had the guts left to stand up to anyone, should they comment on his face.

However, Karen Hegel quickly realized that her romantic dinner with Erik would be anything but. Erik drank; he drank to forget and he drank to gain the confidence to stay in the public eye. By the end of dinner, he was a mess. Karen, embarrassed and perturbed, half carried him out of the restaurant, which was difficult given his height. I missed this scene however; the girls and I had left a moment before and gone to a late movie. A movie I did not watch; I cried instead.

Karen Hegel was faced with a problem, she did not know where Erik lived and he was in no condition to tell her. So, she did the only remaining thing she could; she brought him back to her place. He promptly vomited for half an hour once they reached her modest apartment. Karen sighed; she plans had been wrecked; she had not counted on his heartbreak being so strong.

Her plans of winning him over and living happily ever after in a house he built were quickly deteriorating. The sick truth was, Karen was not in love with Erik, she refused to fall in love with anyone. She just saw him as a man who would be able to support her, and who could be a companion to her. This was her view of the fairy tale ending; security. Not love, but good enough. This was her New York state of mind.

When Erik came out of the bathroom, he stared stonily at Karen,

"I am very sorry Karen," he said in his deep, beautiful voice, "I lost control, I am not a very good time, I will leave you know, again I apologize for my actions," with this formal speech he made to leave,

"Erik, it's nearly four in the morning! And it's freezing out! You should stay here," Karen, re enthused with Erik after this kind apology, began to see her fairy tale man again, "I have something you could wear, and a bed,"

In truth Erik felt exhausted and all he really wanted was to fall into bed and sleep. And so, he agreed. Karen gave him something one of her old boyfriends had left to put on and showed him to her bed. Awkwardly Erik stared at it,

"I could really sleep on the couch," he said,

"Oh come on! We are both adults, we can sleep together without _sleeping_ together," Karen said in a matter of fact voice,

Reluctantly, Erik climbed into the bed. The moment his head touched the pillow however, he was out like a light. Karen on the other hand tried her hand at being seductive. She lightly touched his back, and she slid up to his back, but it was all to no avail because Erik was asleep and he was dreaming of me.

He dreamt we were together again, and that he had taken me to Paris and we were watching the sun rise over the city. So many times, Erik had wondered the dark streets of Paris at night. He walked during a time when the only other people out on the streets were those of bad intentions or less than reputable ones at least. But then, as dawn approached and he knew that soon he would be vanquished again to his underground dungeon, he would pass one certain hotel in Paris. It had a grand balcony, and lovers used to stand, shaking in the chill pre morning air, and wait to watch the sun rise.

So many times he had wished he could be a part of all of that; to be in love and happy and be able to see and appreciate, and stand in, the glory of the morning sun. Once he had stood on the top of the opera house and watched at the sun came up. However, the streaks of color which had cut the sky had meant nothing to him. They might as well have been shades of gray.

In New York, when he had first met me and then stayed up to watch the coming of the sun, he had thought he had almost seen what all the fuss was about. He was sure that had we ever watched it together he would have understood. However, he now felt that was not meant to be. He had been close to the light, but then it had turned away. In his dream, just as the brilliant yellow sun began to appear, it faded to gray and Erik suddenly found himself alone in his underground prison once again.

When he woke up, he found he was not underground at all; he was in a strange bed, laying next to a person he hardly knew. True to fall, the sky outside was gray and raining. As Erik blinked in the grayish morning light and stared at Karen Hegel's still form, he realized that maybe some people were not meant to see the sunlight. Maybe for some people, love was not the answer. He supposed, to protect himself, he should settle for something else. Something like love, but not quite. Erik had begun to develop it to, the cynical New York state of mind.

I woke up to the same gray morning. I walked aimlessly around my apartment; the roses on my table were beginning to wilt, but I did not want to throw them away or pick up any of the dying petals which had fallen on the table.

To me, anything less than love was not anything I wanted. Some how, Erik and I had switched places. He was not longer the romantic, and I was no loner the cynic. I could not believe anything else accept that he would somehow come back to me, because we were meant to be. He had given up; nothing was meant to happen and no one was happy.

I lit my cigarette and started on my work. An hour later, Erik began the walk of shame home from Karen Hegel's apartment. We were miles apart, but as a newly converted believer in romance and fate, I believed that anything could happen. After all, this was New York.


	15. Dressing

Dressing

I was in rough shape. I didn't sleep. I hardly ate. I worked; a lot. However, no matter how hard I worked I could not block out the pain of losing Erik. The roses he had given me still sat on my kitchen table They were dead now, and my friends thought I was morbid for keeping them, but I did it just the same.

Erik did not really know how he had ended up in another relationship. But in all honesty, he knew that what he had with Karen was no relationship. They ate together, they slept in the same bed, they had sex…but Erik felt what was missing. There was no love between he and Karen.

And so, he set out to prove his theory; a relationship without love is better for you.

"So, what should we do today?" Karen Hegel had just woken up, and she was watching Erik as he rolled out of her bed,

"I have to work," he said simply,

"Alright, I'm going shopping,"

Erik grunted. The truth was, they rarely did anything as a "we." They both understood that the other was a settle for and neither of them had any problem with this. They were both afraid of being in love, but they did not want to be alone either.

Mostly this worked for them, they were reasonably happy, and that was good enough.

"Karen! Would you get this damn cat off of my work!" Erik, frustrated, shoved Karen Hegel's cat off his plans for a new building,

"Be nice to Mr. Snowball," Karen simpered, picking up her cat and rubbing him against her face,

Erik hated the stupid cat; it made him sneeze and it was always all over his blueprints, "Is it so much to ask that that cat say on the ground," he said angrily, and then he mumbled under his breath, "Sammy never jumped on my blueprints,"

And that was all it took. Suddenly he flashed back to that day when we had got the dog, and he wondered how he was doing…and despite himself, he wondered how I was doing to…

I was still trying to fend off Mark. He was still calling me, and one day he barged into my life again. One Friday night, all the girls had dates and I found myself, not wanting to stay in, out at a restaurant. I went there straight from my office, and true to his creepy form, Mark followed me in.

After I was seated, he made his move.

"Mark! What the hell?" I cried as he sat down across from me at my table and the weightier handed him a menu,

"I thought you could use some company," Mark smiled slyly; I hated that smile,

Meanwhile, across the room, Erik happened to be on another mediocre date with Karen Hegel. He excused himself to go to the bathroom, but on the way…

He passed my table. He saw me and he panicked; suddenly he felt like he just wanted to melt away into the shadows. So, he did what any one would do when they saw the person they were still in love with…he hid.

"I think you should leave Mark, and don't think I am going to pay for your dinner," I glared at him,

"I think I am going to get the stake, I hear it is good here,"

"I think I am going to hit you with a stake if you don't get out of here!" I yelled at him, and, hidden from view, Erik laughed slightly at my comment,

"I shaking Olivia," Mark scoffed, he sighed and put down his menu, "I think this talk has been a long time coming, and I finally have you here so I am going to talk,"

At that moment the waiter came and took our drink order. Still hiding and listening, Erik whispered 'cosmopolitan' as the waiter asked me what I wanted,

"Anyway Olivia, I suppose you have been thinking about what happened the last time we met…" Mark drawled,

"You mean the time you ruined my life?" I interjected angrily,

"I ruined your life?" Mark questioned, and at this moment the drinks came,

"Yes," I snapped, "Not that it is any of you business, but after he threw you out, Erik broke up with me,"

"Really…sounds like I did you a favor…he was a gruesome looking freak wasn't he?" Mark laughed slightly,

I felt a burning rage rise with in me, and Mark was going to catch it in full. I stood from my chair and picked up my glass, my heart was pounding and I felt like the temperature in the room had risen to a dangerously high level. I threw my drink in Mark's face, staining his expensive shirt with red cosmo,

"Listen you dolt!" I shouted for the whole restaurant to hear, "Don't you dare talk about Erik that way! He was the best thing that ever happened to me! I love him ten times more than I ever thought to love you! He was the most kind, smart, HANDSOME man I ever met!" I realized the entire place was staring at me and I turned to leave, but not before I shot Mark's ego one last time, "And by the way, he was WAY better in bed, WAY better!" I shouted at him.

I then ran like hell out of the place, sticking Mark with the bill and sure that at least he would not be calling me back again.

Erik stood in the restaurant; he looked as stunned as everyone else in the place, but for a completely different reason. He felt dazed, had I really meant all I had just said? Erik decided that he had to know. He bolted from the restaurant in an attempt to find me.

Unfortunately, the moment he opened the door to the street was the moment I opened the door to my cab. I got in and drove away without ever seeing him. In the cab, I began to shake as my brief sense of triumph over Mark began to leave me. As I heard what I had screamed at him over in my head, I stared to cry again; I had said that I love Erik ten times more, not that I loved, no past tense. I was still in love with a man who hated me.

But I was wrong. Erik did not hate me. He never hated me; he had been heartbroken, but he had still loved me. As Erik watched the cab drive away, he suddenly realized just how much he missed me. And as he was walked back to the table where Karen Hegel waited for him, he began to miss me even more.

"Was that…Olivia yelling?" Karen asked suspiciously as Erik sat back down,

"Yes, I believe it was," Erik responded in a non committal tone,

However, Karen Hegel was not fooled. She saw the gazed over look in Erik's green blue eyes and the way he tuned slightly to the door where I had walked out. Karen knew what Erik was thinking; he was still in love with me. Karen thought for a moment. She knew there was a good chance that Erik would never stop loving me, and that meant that he could really never love her. However, Karen just shrugged. She had a good job, she had friends, and she had this season's newest Fendi purse, what did she need with love?

And so we beat on, boats against the current day to day of New York. Erik continued to see Karen Hegel, and he was slowly becoming more and more miserable. He remembered his times with Christine, when every day had been filled with the pain and agony of longing and frustration. He remembered the feeling of emptiness, not only caused by Christine, from a whole life without love. And now the empty feeling was there again.

I was slowly loosing hope. Every day I looked at the wilting roses on my table I became more and more depressed. He was not coming back. I was devastated; I had had my heart broken before, but this was different, this was worse, this was much worse.

Still, I never saw Erik in the hall. I wanted to talk to him, but I still never saw him. I thought that I was becoming numb and that soon I might start to feel better, but then I did see him.

It was Saturday afternoon and I was walking to meet the girls as our favorite lunch café, and there he was in front of me. He and Karen. I had not realized he was seeing someone else. He was carrying her shopping bags and she had her arm through his.

It is a strange feeling, when every other sound in New York stops and all you can hear and all you can see are the two people in front of you. It was like watching a movie; Karen stopped and pointed to a store; Erik shook his head and pointed to a bench on the street. Karen laughed and then, to my horror, she kissed him. Right there on the street of New York she kissed my Erik, right in front of me. I felt like someone was punching me in the stomach over and over again. I felt like I had been sliding out of control as I watched them, and then as they kissed, I felt like I had crashed into a wall. I felt my back hit the wall and my eyes blurred as I started to cry.

Down the street several feet, Erik sat on the bench. He remembered shopping with me, but he did not remember it being this painful. He sighed and looked around him at the people milling around the streets and he pulled his coat tighter around him. And then he saw, leaning against the wall shaking; me.

He knew it was me, he would have recognized my Manolo Blahnic shoes anywhere. He was so shocked he dropped the bags he had been holding for Karen. He stared at me, was I crying?

Without thinking, Erik walked toward me, leaving all the shopping bags unattended on the bench. Panicked, I looked up. Seeing him walking toward me I froze. This was not the optimum situation for me to see Erik again, so I did the only thing a girl could do when she sees the man she is still in love with…I ran.

I did not look back, I just bolted. I heard him call out my name and start to run behind me, and I knew he would catch me in a minute; if I ran any faster the straps on my shoes would break. So I improvised; I turned into a restaurant and made a beeline for the woman's bathroom.

Erik followed me in; he rapped on the woman's door, "Olivia," he called, "Olivia?"

But I couldn't see him. I could not look at him after I had seen him kiss Karen. I sat in one of the stalls, crying into my hands and shaking as though I had just been outside in the cold wearing a summer dress.

Outside, Erik sighed. I was not going to come out, and he was making a scene. People were starting to stare, and a man was coming over to talk to him. Defeated, Erik walked out of the place, leaving me in peace to cry.

Erik strode back to the bench, noting, without really caring, that the bags he had left were now gone. A moment later, Karen walked out to meet him,

"Sorry that took so long honey," Karen smiled as she walked up to Erik,

"It's fine," Erik mumbled, not completely listening to her,

"It was this dress; I couldn't make up my mind if I wanted to buy it or not, and the sales attendant said it looked so good, but then they always say that but, well, you know how it is…" Karen rambled on without realizing that Erik was not listening,

"Hey, honey, where are my bags?" Karen noticed that Erik's hand were empty,

"Oh…I…I don't know," Erik said distractedly,

"What!" Karen was furious, "How could you not know where they are!"

"I left them alone," Erik admitted, still seeing the image of me crying and running in his head,

"Why the hell did you do that?" Karen screamed,

"I don't know!" Erik suddenly snapped, "I will replace the items you lost if you care that damn much!" He glared at Karen, not understanding how she could care about missing shopping bags when I was in a bathroom crying,

Karen looked up, stunned, "Alright," she said softly, backing down in the face of Erik's rage,

They walked silently back to Karen's apartment. On the walk back, Erik thought of nothing but me running away from him. He sighed as he stared at the fall leaves he was crushing under his foot. He hated that somewhere I was crying. Whoever had made me cry had to pay, Erik thought. The idea that I was crying over him had not really occurred to him. He did not think anyone would ever cry over _him_, and so he concluded that someone else must have upset me.

Erik found himself still thinking about me later that evening. He and Karen were planning a quiet evening in, but all he could think about was the tears on my face. He tired to ignore it and convince himself that nothing was bothering him. Erik thought it was absolutely crucial to his survival; he knew that if he allowed himself to continue down the road of Olivia obsession he would end up in a crash.

However, he could not help it. He kept thinking of me, and no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he did not care, and that it was better for him to not be with me, the truth was, he did care.

"Karen, on second thought I don't think I can stay tonight," Erik said suddenly, feeling that if he did not do something he would throw something,

"Oh, but I rented The Notebook," Karen looked sadly at him,

Erik felt that any exit at this point was a good exit; as long as he didn't have to watch whatever The Notebook was. He made his excuses and he left.

Twenty minutes later, Erik stood in front of my door. His emotions had driven him there, but now he had no idea what to do. He had effectively ignored me for weeks and he was not sure that I would want to speak to him, but he had to see; he had to know who had upset me, so he could deal with whoever it was properly. With a deep breath, he knocked on my door.

Inside, I pulled out of my depression and responded to the knock on the door. I in no way expected to see Erik standing there. I shifted my weight; running earlier had not worked, I was busted.

It was surreal; for weeks all I wanted was to see Erik, and now that he was here standing face to face with me, all I wanted was for him to leave me alone.

I wanted to ask him what he wanted, but I could not find the strength. He wanted to ask me what had upset be earlier, but his rich voice seemed to have died in his throat. For a moment we just stared at each other; he looked good. He had grown out his dark hair slightly to cover his uneven hair line and a stray strand had fallen into his burning eyes. I felt my pulse quicken as he stared at me. I hated to think what he thought I looked like; my hair was a mess and had not been cut in awhile, and my eyes were all red and puffy from crying. I didn't know it, but he thought I looked beautiful.

"Well?" I finally found the courage to say,

"I…" he stuttered, "I saw you…earlier…" He did not really know where he was going with this; it had seemed like the absolute right thing to do before, as obviously right as the little black dress. But now, he felt he might have committed a faux pas, "You seemed…upset," he felt like an idiot say it; of course I had been upset, but he did not know how else to say it,

"Yes, I was," I stared at him blankly; how did he know he had not broken my heart and that was why I was upset? What was he trying to do to me?

"May…may I ask you…why?" Erik stammered out,

"My God Erik, do you really not know?" I felt like punching him; he broke my heart, he would not listen to me, and now he was coming back to rub it all in my face?

"No," Erik said blankly, the thought that he had caused me all that pain still had not occurred to him, "Who…who hurt you?"

I got so mad I slapped him in the face, "Are you that dense!" I screamed, "For a smart man you can be really stupid!" I kept shouting, "You! You imbecile! You broke my heart! You left me and you wouldn't even _listen_ to me when I tried to explain to you what happened! You crushed me! And you don't even care! You can just move on and kiss…other women and not even think about me!" I felt tears in my eyes again, "I loved you with all of my heart and you don't even care about me!" I was shaking now and I couldn't stand to look at him anymore so I slammed the door.

Erik felt like he had been hit by a car. He leaned against me doorframe and through the wall he could hear me sobbing on the other side. He was shocked; he had had not idea that I had love him _that_ much; he had never suspected that it would pain me to lose him.

He walked back to his apartment with a heavy heart. He opened his door and walked in, falling listlessly on the sofa. He had been ready for me to say that Mark, or someone from work, or someone else had been mean to me or something. He had been ready to kill whoever had done me harm; and now he found it was he himself who he thought deserved death.

My words rang in his ears and the spot on my face where I had slapped him stung. Never, ever, had he meant to hurt me. He had thought that in leaving me he was giving me what I wanted, and that only he was suffering. He had believed that it was his lot in life to be in pain and without love. To his amazement I was just as upset at our falling out as he was.

Still, Erik could not get out of his relationship with Karen. And so, Erik allowed Karen to introduce him to her friends. One evening they all met at an Italian restaurant. The food was fine, but the dinner was uncomfortable. Despite pleasant conversation, Erik could feel the eyes on the side of his face. He could tell that everyone was staring at him, and by the slight whispers and meaningful looks exchanged when no one thought he was looking no one there approved of him.

On this occasion, Erik was right. Karen's friends all were of that cast of New York men and women who believed in the idea; the ideal clothes, shoes, houses, and most importantly the idea spouse. Karen's friends believed that looking for a man was like shopping for clothes; you should not buy it unless it fits perfectly and there are not flaws in the stitching. Erik's face, to them, was more than faulty stitching; it was a giant stain.

Erik did not care about any of this. All he thought about now was what he had done to me. He had broken my heart. He had been so angry that someone had hurt me, never thinking it could have been himself. He was the one who deserved to die.

After the dinner, Karen's friend Shelly pulled her over,

"Karen, you have to let this one go," She whispered in here ear,

"What!" Karen was shocked "Why?"

"His face honey! Look at his face!"

That night, all Karen Hegel could think about was Erik's face. Yes, it was shocking, but there were so many other factors. He was smart and kind; even if he did yell and get angry at times. He had a great job and a lot of money. All these things made Karen want to keep hold of him. Unable to sleep, Karen wondered, if Erik's face was the giant stain on the perfect dress, was there no way to wash it out?

The next night New York got hit with its first big storm. It rain like mad and the wind was wild. Still, Karen and Erik had reservations and braved the weather to make dinner at nine. Karen picked this dinner to talk to Erik about the idea of facial cleansing,

"So, what did you think of my friends?" Karen asked in a would be cheery voice,

"I think they hated me, and that they are a bit dull," Erik said honestly,

"Oh, they didn't hate you, they were just…a bit put off by your…" Karen did not know how to say it,

"I know, most people are the first time they meet me," Karen did not know how to tell Erik that she was still bothered with it to,

"How long has your face been…that way?" Karen asked innocently, trying to bring the conversation to a point where she could ask him,

"All my life," Erik responded in a bland voice; he was unsure why Karen was insisting on asking so many questions about his face, he preferred not to talk about it,

"Well, does it always…cause problems?"

Erik glared at her, what was her angle? If she could only know all the trouble his face had caused him…

"Yes, it does," He growled,

"Well, have you ever thought of doing something about it?" Karen gave him her brightest smile and handed him a piece of paper,

Erik took it and read it. It was about plastic surgery; to fix his face. In that moment; Erik felt all his feelings rush over him. Karen did not care about him; well, not the him I had cared about. I had cared about the man; all Karen cared about was the dressing. And Erik realized, he had let it happen. He had let himself become a different man than the one he had been when he had been seeing me.

He had become the Erik who didn't care; who tried to numb himself against feeling, and in the process he had hurt me. As he stared at the paper he wondered, was it worth it? Was this what he wanted? Yes, love was painful, but was the pain better than nothing at all? He knew the chance of happiness was. Still deep in thought, Erik let the paper fall to the ground and he stood,

"Erik, what are you doing?" Karen asked,

Erik did not respond; he was done with Karen as far as he was concerned. He left her sitting there bewildered and headed out into the storm. He called a cab and got in.

Thinking it over in his head as the cab whizzed around the already slick corners, Erik had every intention of coming over to talk to me. And as the cabbie realized his taxi was out of control, he had every intention of stopping, but he could not. The breaks spun and the cab swerved, skidding into an intersection. Two cars came at the unfortunate cab from opposite directions and crushed it, spinning it around in the process. Other cars followed, unable to stop quickly in the pouring rain. For a moment, the New York street was filled with the horrific honking of horns and calls out the window. The sound of the crunching metal followed by other doors opening as people cautiously approached the cars, and in the center sat the cab; completely crushed by the others.

And just like that, Erik died.

At one AM I got a phone call from the hospital.


	16. A Note to everyone

Well, I have to say, I am very happy to see everyone is so concerned about the well being of our dear Erik! I know, it was cruel of me to do what I did, so let me try to quell your fears now. There is more to the story; it's not over yet. All I ask is that you put your trust in me to make it all better (which I will) I am glad to see everyone so up in arms against me killing Erik and I always love to hear that people are enjoying this because to be honest, it was the first idea for a story I came up with but I did not write it right away because I thought no one would be interested and that it would make no sense. I love that I was wrong! thank everyone so much for reading and I promise you will like what I have in store! I will try to update soon! Thanks again everyone!


	17. In with the Old, out with the New

In with the Old, out with the New

Angrily I wondered who the hell would be calling me as I had finally fallen asleep for the first time in awhile and I did not appreciate being woken up,

"What?" I growled,

"Is this Miss Olivia Moss?" the voice asked me in a serious tone,

"Yes," I responded, still miffed,

"Do you know an Erik Duval?" Suddenly I was all ears,

After Erik had been brought to the hospital the process had begun to identify the man. They had salvaged his wallet and run his credit cards. Finding out where he worked, they were able to find out his contact in case of emergency number; something he had not changed since he had been seeing me.

The man on the phone told me that Erik had been in an accident and that I should come down to the hospital as soon as I could and contact his family

It seemed surreal as I got dressed to go to the hospital. At first I was numb with shock, but then when I passed my table and saw my dead roses and then Sammy wagging his tail questioningly at me I lost it.

It took all the strength I had to pull myself off the floor and go to the street to call a cab. I was shaking all over and there was a ringing in my ears. I had come to the realization that I would have to accept a life with out Erik in it, but I had not thought of having to accept a life where Erik was dead.

When I arrived at the hospital later that morning it was still raining like mad. A nurse directed me to wait in the lounge and I sat in one of the blue plastic seats, running a hand through my rain drenched hair and wondering what had happened.

Eventually a doctor approached me,

"Miss Moss?" he addressed me,

"Yes," I said shakily, rising to my feet,

"I'm Doctor Green," He shook my hand, "If you could follow me?" I nodded and we walked toward an elevator, "Erik was brought in here earlier tonight, around ten," I nodded as I listened to his explanation, "He was in a car accident," I did my best not to cry in front of the doctor, "There was a pile up, no one has died yet but several of the passengers are in pretty rough shape; unfortunately your fiancé is one of the worst off," I did not correct his mistake and tell him that Erik and I were not engaged; I couldn't bring myself to. I just listened, "His leg was crushed, as was his right arm; when we brought him in he was experiencing internal bleeding, along with a fractured rib cage and…" I burst out crying and the doctor paused, "I am very sorry…" he said in almost an automatic response. It was not that he did not care, in fact he felt very bad for the tragic man and for me (who he believed to be the man's fiancé) it was just that the doctor had seen this so many times,

"How…How is he now?" I stuttered

"He just came out of the reconstructive surgery; his condition stabilized earlier and we think he is going to be alright; that was why we brought him in for the second operation,"

"Second operation for what?" I asked confused,

"Well, and this is going to be hard to hear…when the cars crashed into each other your fiancé was smashed against the window, and it cut up his face very badly…" Doctor Green looked at me sidelong. Doctor Green was a good man; as were his colleagues at the hospital, but that did not mean they never made mistakes. He only hoped I would not notice. Doctor Green had not been on rounds when they had brought Erik in. The young doctor who had saved Erik's life had believed that the scarring on his face had been a result of the accident and wanted to perform reconstructive facial surgery as soon as he could to prevent the terrible wounds on his face from getting worse.

When Doctor Green had come in, after hearing about the huge accident, the facial surgery had already been underway. Of course, the more experienced man had realized right away that Erik's face had been that way for a long time and only several of the cuts were from the accident. However it was too late to stop and what the hospital had essentially done was to perform unnecessary plastic surgery without the consent of the patient. To avoid a lawsuit, Doctor Green told me the surgery was necessary, and he hoped I would never find out otherwise. He had no idea what he and his associates had inadvertently done…they had taken the deformity off of the phantom.

I however cared about none of this. My only concern was for Erik,

"But will he be alright?" I asked,

"We believe so," Doctor Green said; he was now leading me down a hallway. Finally he stopped in front of a door, "He is in here; I warn you he still looks pretty bad,"

I took a deep breath and entered. Erik lay on a bed before me; his leg and arm in casts, and white bandaging around his ribs and half of his face.

"My God," I breathed; I had seen this type of thing on TV before, but I had never seen the man I loved stretched out like road kill. I sank down in the chair next to his bed,

"Is he…unconscious? Or is he still under anesthesia?" I asked softly,

"The anesthesia should wear off soon, but he is going to be in a lot of pain…he may not wake up for awhile," Doctor Green looked sympathetically at me,

"Can I wait?" I asked, not taking my eyes off of Erik as I spoke,

Normally he would have said that I would have to leave soon, but as they had already botched things, he would let me stay, "Of course," with that he turned and left; fairly certain that by the way I was crying I would be happy just to have Erik alive and not care about the mistake. If he had known I was a lawyer he might have not felt so good about his lies.

Erik did not know where he was. Was he dead? He could not feel anything, and he was sure that if he was dead he would feel the fires of hell, so he was fairly certain that he was not dead yet, so what was he?

His mind worked hard to piece together the past hours of his life; he found thinking was painful and remembering was difficult. There had been rain, and wind…and a crash. Suddenly Erik remembered the crash. He had known that the driver had lost control of the taxi and that he was headed for a deadly end. In that moment, he had gained a kind of clarity; every twist in his life suddenly straightened and he saw clearly for the first time. Erik the phantom, Erik the cynic had died in that taxi. Erik the man I loved lived still, and struggled against the darkness in the hospital bed.

He realized there was only one question he needed answered; where was I? What would I do if I did not hear from him? I would think he was still ignoring me…He wanted to tell me so much, but how could he?

If he could have mustered the strength to open an eyelid he would have seen me, but the energy required to do such a thing did not belong to him yet. Erik felt like he had just been beaten all over his body. As consciousness swam back to him, Erik sensed the pain in his crushed body; his leg throbbed and his arm felt like it was on fire. His chest hurt every time he drew breath and his face hurt as though he had been in a fist fight where he had been repeatedly punched in the jaw.

I waited four hours as Erik slowly came back to his senses and struggled to master the pain cursing through his body. At five thirty in the morning, a low groan escaped Erik's now perfect lips. At the sound of him I immediately sat up. I had been leaning forward, placing my head on the extra room on Erik's bed. I studied him as he groaned again,

"Erik, can you hear me?" I asked him softly, then repeated a bit louder, "Erik?"

In his half conscious state, Erik found himself back in his old haunt; the Paris Opera. It was the New Years gala…or was it? Everything looked different and yet the same as dreams do. The most striking difference was that instead of watching everything from a distance and hidden from all eyes; he was walking through the dancing people as though he were no different from them. Confused, he began to search for me, but I was no where in sight.

He saw everyone else however. He saw Christine, he saw Raoul, he saw Madame Giry and her daughter, he also saw Tom Hanks but he assumed that this was only an affect of the painkillers and the fact that he had just been forced to watch A League of Their Own. Everyone from his past was there. However, none of them recognized him, which was not a problem at all; it was just unsettling. People were nodding at him and tipping their hats as though they even respected him. Some young ballerinas were even smiling at him.

Using dream logic, which tells you to do the strangest things; like buy a pock-a- dot pant suit, he decided he should talk to Christine. If anyone knew him she would. As he approached her however, he saw a pair of six inch black strappy Manolo's mixed in with the drab low heals and long hemlines of the other women.

He tried to go toward me but he could not. Angry, he began to groan louder and I watched him with fascination and concern.

"Olivia!" Erik finally managed to cry out and I practically jumped out of my chair with joy,

"Erik! I'm right here! Can you hear me?" I called to him, and in his dream world he suddenly realized that what he was looking at was fake. He knew he was dreaming. With a great pull of all the strength he could muster, Erik opened his eyes. One he could not see out of because the bandage on his face prevented it, but as vision came to his other eye he realized he was looking at me.

He found he could not really speak, and I found the same was true for me. But that did not matter; he said it all with his eyes. He was sorry, he had not meant to hurt me, and he still loved me.

In any other situation I should have been mad at him. Erik had broken my heart because he was unwilling to listen to a perfectly good explanation, and he had moved on to another woman because he was pigheaded. However, he had almost died and now he was awake and he loved me and I knew it. So, I did the only thing a girl can do when the man she loves regains consciousness. I kissed him.

Erik forgot his pain as I brushed my lips to his. He had been certain there would be no way I would forgive him; he had thought that I would have been so mad I would have hated him. He had been ready to crawl back to me on his knees; but here I was, kissing him. He wished he had the strength to put an arm around me, or at least kiss me back harder, but found it too painful and impossible to budge.

"Olivia…I'm sorry," he manage to say when I drew away from him,

I could tell speaking pained him and I shushed him; I did not need to hear him speak now, "Don't talk if it hurts," I said gently, "Listen, the doctor said you are going to be alright," I did not tell the truth and say that they only _thought_ he was going to be alright, because really, who the hell would say that? "Do you need anything?" I asked him,

He slightly shook his head no. He took a deep breath and I saw him wince as he moved his good hand so it rested over mine.

"I missed you Erik," I whispered as I saw him do this; I saw that this comment upset him greatly; he hated himself for the time he had foolishly caused us to spend apart. I decided to stop talking in this vane, "Sammy will be glad to have you back," I said, smiling through happy tears. This only made Erik feel worse; he had left our little family cold, and now he was being welcomed back. He did not really understand why; but he guessed that it was because I really loved him.

For the rest of the morning I sat by Erik's bedside, talking to him about anything that came into my head. As for Erik; he was content just to hear my voice and feel the warmth of my hand in his. By eight in the morning I was exhausted but I still did not want to leave Erik. I was unsure of what to do; so I left Erik and went to use one of the hospital phones to call in to work. I was going to be taking a personal day.

On my way to the phone, I passed Doctor Green in the hallway.

"I heard your fiancé woke up," He smiled warmly at me, there were dark circles under his eyes and I assumed he had had a rough shift,

"Yes he did," I still had not corrected him about my relationship with Erik,

"Glad to hear it," Good new was always welcome to the doctor,

"Now I just have to call in to work and tell them I am not coming in today," I said with a wan smile,

"What do you do?" he asked me,

"I'm a lawyer," I said with an apologetic smile; most people cringed when they found out I was a lawyer. For some reason, they did not like lawyers…

Doctor Green was no exception; he was still worried about a possible lawsuit and finding out that I was a lawyer did not help him, "Um…so, do you need anything?" Doctor Green asked, hoping to suck up to me,

"Well…I am tired…" I admitted,

"Feel free to sleep in your fiancé's room!" the doctor said quickly before his pager went off and he had to hurry away,

After I called my office, I called Erik's as well. I knew this would set off a chain of events which would inevitably bring Karen Hegel to the hospital, but I did not care. She could see him and wish him well and the she would leave. Erik was mine now and if she tried anything, she would be very glad we were in a hospital.

For two hours I managed to sleep in the chair by Erik's bed. He murmured out that I should go home and sleep and that he would be fine. I refused to leave his side however. Secretly he was glad I stayed. He watched me sleep; he realized that it had been some time since he had watched me sleep. I looked uncomfortable, but peaceful just the same. Erik remembered the feel of our bed and the weight of my head on his shoulder and the warmth of my body against his. He closed his eyes to the pain in his body, knowing that eventually, he would be able to rest in that bed again, and through some act of God he believed that he would hold me again.

When I woke up he was staring at me. I yawned and smiled at him,

"Did you sleep well?" He asked in a horse voice,

"Honey, I'm sleeping in a small chair; no, I did not sleep very well," But I was still smiling and I leaned forward and kissed him, "How do you feel?"

"Imagine how uncomfortable sleeping in the chair was and then multiply it by a million," he said and I was glad to hear him joke again,

"Oh darling," I suddenly remembered, "Has Doctor Green come in at all?" He shook his head no, "Because he thinks we are engaged,"

Erik found himself wishing that we were. He remembered the engagement ring he had bought for me and hoped someday he could get me to accept it. For the moment however he just was happy that I had not felt the need to correct the doctor and was willing to play his pretend fiancé.

"Erik, I'm starving; I think I will go to the cafeteria and…" I started to tell him but then the door to his room opened,

Karen Hegel flew in, "Erik! We heard about you at work! How could you not have called me?" she looked furiously at him,

I stood quickly and positioned myself between Karen and Erik's bed, "Excuse me," I said in an angry tone, "but I would appreciate it if you did not _yell_ at _my_ boyfriend,"

"_You boyfriend_!" Karen glared at me, "He is with me,"

"Not anymore!" I yelled back,

And right there in the hospital room Karen and I got in our first and last fight. Karen pushed me backwards and I almost hit Erik's bed. Furious that she could have hurt Erik if I had knocked against his bed, I shoved that little hussy back into the wall. With a shout of fury she came at me; we locked arms and each of us attempted to throw the other to the ground. Unfortunately for Karen Hegel; she was a stupid boyfriend stealer that had ruined my life and I hated her more than I hated anything, and that included stretch pants, and so Karen crashed to the ground.

"How dare you!" Karen screamed at me,

I simply folded my arms across my chest and looked defiantly at her. She scrambled to her feet, "I demand to speak to him!" Karen yelled at me, "He needs to explain himself!" she was angry that he had just walked out on her the night before,

"He needs to do no such thing!" I yelled back, "he is in a lot of pain right now and I don't think listening to your grating voice is going to help him!" Erik had fought for me dozens of times, and now I was returning the favor; I bodily shoved Karen out of the room and into the hallway, "I know it is going to be hard for you to accept," I told Karen once we were out of Erik's room, "But he loves me, not you! So I really think you should leave now, before this gets messy,"

"Are you threatening me?" Karen narrowed her eyes,

"It's not a threat," I said menacingly, "It's a promise," I knew it was cliché, but really, I was in a hospital and running on very little sleep; what else could I say?

"Well," Karen looked scandalized, "I will go _now_, but this is not over," and with that she stormed off. I laughed as she tried to exit through a janitor's closet; opening the door too late to realize her mistake and then having to shamefully walk back out again and find the real exit.

My small victory won, I returned to Erik. I had not shut the door when I had left and he had heard every word exchanged between me and Karen. He had never had two people fight over who got to be with him, and he had to admit that it was nice, even if one of those people was Karen.

He also had to admit how proud he was that I had dealt with her so affectively. The fact that I loved him enough to fight for him made the pain from the car crash seem almost bearable.

"That was very good of you," Erik said to me as I sat down in the room again,

"Well, I had to get ride of her somehow," I smiled at him; and then I had a thought, "You _are_ mine again, aren't you?" I suddenly realized that we had never said anything about the subject; I had simply been assuming that Erik loved me again. Oh God, I thought suddenly, what if I had been wrong? what if he did not want me back, what if he was just happy to be alive?

Erik stared at my now worried eyes, "Olivia," he said, "I was always yours; I was just too foolish to see it," and just like that, Erik and I were officially back together.

At the end of the day I knew I had to go back home. However, I still needed to tell Erik what had been done to his face.

"Erik, I have to go soon, but there is something I need to tell you first," I began,

"What is it?" he asked,

'It's about your face," I started, "When you were brought in here, they…operated on it and…they made it look…not deformed,"

He did not believe his ears, "What?" he was shocked at the idea,

"Yeah…so from now on, you will look…your face will be…" I did not quite know how to put it,

"Normal," he said it for me. I just looked at him; it appeared there was some great thinking going on in his head. Erik was stunned; what he had always wanted had happened to him. He never would have gotten plastic surgery on his own; it was expensive and he did not want to admit he was that vain, but this was wonderful; this was the best day of his life. He got me back and he got a real face.

I kissed him goodbye an hour later and went home. I missed him already.

_Well! There it is, everything is happy in Erik world again! Really, I can't believe some of our readers would think I would end the story by killing Erik…that's simply not done! Julia was very perceptive in noting something from the very first chapter, as was Twinkle22 for picking up on the metaphor thing. And so was Skeleton Horse; and yes I know I use commas when I should have periods, I can't really explain it. I'm crazy sometimes! And to everyone, again I am sorry if I threw some of you into shock, but I hope you are all better now if you are wondering this was the plan; there had to be some more obstacles in their relationship. Of course Erik has still not told Olivia about his past…so there is a lot more fun to be had! Thanks one and all for reading and reviewing! (hope you liked your treat Barb!) _


	18. The Sultan of Swoon

The Sultan of Swoon

Erik had to stay at the hospital for another three days for observations. It was not so bad however. The pain slowly began to lessen and I visited him every day. And, by the end of the second day, his room had been transformed into what looked like a botanical garden the occasionally grew mini muffins. Between the people at his office, me, my friends, and several people at my office, Erik managed to collect at least a dozen bouquets of flowers, and quiet a few baskets filled with either muffins or fruit.

He had been unaware of this tradition involving the sick or hospitalized and when the first bunch of flowers had been delivered into his room he had been sure there had been some sort of mistake. However, the nurse assured him that the flowers were his, and she showed him the small card which read,

Erik,

Heard about the accident; hope you are alright! Get well soon, we are going to miss you around here while you are gone! But make sure to relax, work will be waiting for you when you come back!

It was signed by several people from his office. And more kept showing up like that, all from people he had no idea would even care if he was hurt. He had to admit it was nice…to have people care that he was stuck, immobile and in pain, in a hospital room.

But the one he enjoyed the most was what he received from me. I sent him roses; writing on the note that it was about time _I_ gave them to _him_.

After what felt like years to him and to me, I was able to bring Erik home from the hospital. It was a better cold day; perfect for my new winter coat but not much else. It had snowed the night before and there was still quite a bit plied on the New York City streets and the roads were slick.

Erik limped out of the hospital at my side one day after work; he was able to walk with one crutch under one arm. He had been advised to get a wheel chair but he absolutely refused.

When he caught sight of the winter conditions outside and the yellow cab waiting to take us home, he felt a sudden uneasiness.

"You know, I have not been outside in awhile and I miss it, maybe we should just walk home," He suggested,

"Erik darling, home is about a hundred blocks away and my boats were not made for walking," I smiled at him because his deception was about as thin as a runway model; I knew what had happened to him the last time he had been in a cab, but there was no other way to go about this.

Erik sighed; he had doubted I would go for his suggestion, and he knew that even at his physical best, he could not walk home from the hospital. We approached the front doors and Erik felt a strange tingling run up and down his spine. He was about to step into the world as a normal man for the first time.

When I had told him about his face, he had not believed me at first. After I left, he had found the strength through curiosity to raise his hand to the side of his cheek. He ran his hand along his skin, and to his shock, he had found it smooth where it had once been twisted and lumpy.

He had realized in that moment he had something he had wished for and dreamed about his whole life, and so, he could not help but wonder, why didn't it feel more monumental to him? He almost felt indifferent toward it. Of course, initially he was overjoyed, but then he had forgotten about it.

It took him a whole day to realized; when he had had his old life, he had wanted love and security and a family. And, he had believed that in order to get those things he needed a normal looking face. However in his new life, he had love and security and the makings of a family. Erik realized that he was much happier to get all of those things back than he could ever be about his face.

Still, it was an interesting prospect. He would no longer have to pretend to ignore every wicked stare and every disgusted face that was made at him. Now, he could be a completely normal man; the Erik of the past, the phantom, was dead; gone.

Of course, he thought to himself, he would never be a _completely_ normal man. He still thought about the opera every now and then, and he still was a man from the past living in the future, but he was not a man whose past ruled his future, and for that also he was grateful.

The electric doors of the hospital slid open to allow us to exit. Erik took another deep breath as we walked out. This was it, he thought, here I go.

I glanced sidelong at him as we left the hospital. I knew that he must be thinking about his face. I remembered all the problems it had caused us, and now the source of all that was gone. I also knew that if he had lived that way his whole life, he was in for a real change. He had been handsome to me before, but now he was absolutely gorgeous. Every woman in Manhattan would have their eyes on him. I did not believe Erik was the kind of man to leave me for some other beautiful stick figure with no soul; he had only left me for Karen because he thought I was in love with Mark.

We made it to the cab without incident. Erik carefully got in and I followed. As the cab began to move I felt Erik tense and I put my hand on his knee,

"It's going to be alright," I said to him soothingly, "We'll be home soon,"

Erik nodded; home soon. He was finally going home. He had missed my apartment; he had missed living there together. He missed Sammy and the way I burnt bacon on Saturday mornings.

We finally reached our building. Erik limped out of the cab and we approached the door. Upon entering, our doorman smiled at me,

"Evening Miss Moss," He said, "And who is this?" He winked at me and then glanced at Erik,

"You don't recognize me?" Erik smirked amused,

The man stared at him for a moment, "Mr. Duval?" he looked shocked; could this be the same man he had seen with me before? The one who looked like death?

I felt that this confrontation was unnecessary; actually I felt that I just wanted him back up in my apartment as soon as possible. I knew that with a broken arm and crushed leg Erik would not be able to really have all the bedtime fun, but at least we would be together alone.

Erik sensed my anxiousness to get upstairs and he felt it to. He had felt his heart rate quicken when I placed my hand on his knee and he realized that soon he would be alone with me. However he was enjoying this a bit.

"Oh so you do recognize me," our doorman was staring open mouthed at him, "It something wrong?" Erik asked mildly,

"You-you just look…different," He stuttered,

"You mean not like a walking plague that is not good enough for Olivia?" Our doorman winced; he had not been aware that Erik had known his opinions of him, let alone that Erik would ever call him on it,

"W-well…" He stuttered,

Erik smiled at how awkward the doorman felt; I tugged on his good arm and he nodded, "I am going upstairs now…with Olivia…but you have fun with this…door thing," and with that Erik's new face took its first revenge.

"You did not have to say that," I told him as we waited for an elevator,

"No, I didn't…but it was a bit amusing, wasn't it?" I had to admit that it had been; I had been angry with the rest of the building when they had turned against Erik because of his face, and it was rewarding to see some retribution.

It felt wonderful to finally have my door in sight. Erik was glad too. His body was starting to ach again after all the movement he had had to do. He would be grateful to sit down again.

I hurriedly unlocked the door. At that moment I also released the speeding bullet. Sammy saw Erik standing in the hallway and bolted toward him. Practically knocking him over, Sammy jumped up, his paws reaching Erik's hips and sliding down his legs,

Erik was happy to see the dog again; he had missed his energy. However, it hurt.

I laughed at there reunion and then dutifully pulled Sammy off of him. We moved into the apartment and Erik made it to the sofa before he collapsed, no longer able to stand due to a burning pain in his leg,

Just as exhausted from a long day at work, I sat down heavily beside him. Staring around the apartment, Erik was happy to see it was exactly how he remembered it; he had thought of it often during our separation and he was glad to see that his memory served him.

However, he suddenly saw something he did not remember; something that made his stomach churn.

"Olivia, you kept those roses?" He stared shocked at the blackened wilting flowers which had been his last present to me. I came and sat beside him on the sofa, pealing off my boots and curling up beside him.

"They were all I had left of you," I answered honestly; resting my head on his shoulder,

Erik felt terrible. He disengaged slightly so he was looking right at me. Using his good arm and hand, he tilted my chin upward. There was still a lot we had to say to each other. I was slightly angry with him for being such a pig head for so long, but after almost losing him in a car crash, it was hard to think about that.

So, when he leaned over and pressed his lips to mine I did not think about anything else. I just closed my eyes; happy we were home, together. I quickly removed my suit jacket; Erik leaned back so I was semi laying on top of him. What made it difficult was the fact that half his body was broken and his ribs were still sore. I didn't want to hurt him, but I did want him.

Erik felt hot searing pain run through his still healing body as I placed even the slightest pressure on him. I knew he wanted this to happen as much as I did, but I could also tell that it hurt. I stopped and smiled at him,

"This hurts, doesn't it?" I asked him smiling,

He tried to make a brave face but then he shook his head, "It's like a thousand fire ants are eating be alive," he said honestly,

I laughed, nodding and moving back to an upright sitting position,

"How about I just get us something to eat?" I got up off the sofa and walked toward my phone, planning on ordering something,

"Thank God," Erik said, re situating himself so his body was not throbbing, "I can't believe hospital food could be that bad,"

I laughed, "It's a conspiracy…they make you better but the food makes you sicker," I dialed as I laughed. Thank God indeed, I thought. Thank God we were together again.

I had known, or at least I had thought I had known, that we were meant to be together. When we had been apart, I had thought maybe I could move on…but every time I was held back by a feeling. I loved him, and I didn't what to be with anyone else. And it was easy. It was almost like we had never been apart. I'm not sure if it is a good thing, when you are in love, to glaze over things, but I felt in our situation it seemed like the thing to do.

The next morning Erik woke up before I did. He had had the most glorious sleep he had had in ages; my bed was the infinitely more comfortable than the one at the hospital. It was like cashmere to polyester. But what was even better was the warmth of my body against his. He felt it was too good to be true to be waking up next me again.

I nestled my head against his shoulder as I slept. Erik sighed happily, he had his good arm wrapped around my shoulders and I was laying snug to the side of his body. Erik traced my arm with his fingers gently. He was pleased as I nestled closer to him and smiled in my sleep. How he had thought it was better to live with out this he did not know.

Looking over me to the window in my room, Erik noted the gray sky and suddenly he felt a jolt in his stomach. For the first time since he had been here, it was truly snowing in New York City. It was comfortable feeling, he thought, to be home; settled deep in a warm bed and in love, while outside the weather was cold and blistery.

Some minutes later, my eyes fluttered open. At first I did not quite remember where I was, but then it hit me. With a spark of happiness I remembered I was in my own bed with Erik again. Lifting my eyes I noted that he was awake.

"Morning," I said sleepily,

"Good morning my darling," I had almost forgotten how lovely his voice sounded; though he had lost most of the French accent he had arrived here with, his voice was still deep and rich and powerful. Not to mention overwhelmingly sexy. I raised my head further and gave him a quick kiss on his lips.

At this point I noticed the snow outside,

"Oh Erik look!" I pointed to the window, "It's snowing!"

"I know I saw," He smiled at my childlike excitement over the big white flakes falling from the sky,

"You know what this means?" I asked him,

"No, what does it mean?" He said, still smiling,

"It means we have to stay in bed all day and only get up to make hot chocolate," Erik did not know what hot chocolate was, but staying in my bed all day sounded good enough. Actually, it had been what he wanted all along.

And so, my bed became our own little world. I got up occasionally to bring in food and Erik drank hot chocolate for the first time in his life. Sammy also made a visit to our little world. After I opened the door to the bed room for the first time, he bound in and jumped up on the bed; crawling over to Erik and licking his face,

"Sammy!" Erik cried, "Down boy!" the dog completely ignored him and instead, curled up in a ball beside him. I laughed,

"Alright but when I come back I want my spot back again," And so there we were, a man a woman and their dog; all in bed on a snowy Saturday afternoon.

"How about I put on some music?" I asked later in the day,

I saw Erik's face brighten as I moved to my stereo, "Do you like Sinatra?" I asked him,

"Who?" he asked,

"Oh my God you don't know who _Frank_ _Sinatra_ is?" I was shocked,

Erik realized he had made a mistake, but it was too late now so he just went with it, "Never heard of him,"

"God, you must have lived under a rock in Paris," I teased him as I put in the CD,

Under a rock, under and opera, whatever, Erik thought as I returned to bed. He had an uneasy feeling in that moment; should he ever tell me the truth? Or was it better this way? He had lost me once and that had been unbearable, should he risk losing me again by telling me about his past?

But then the song started and he became temporarily distracted,

"This is one of his most famous songs; New York, New York," Erik listened for a moment. This was very far from the singing he was used to,

"People like this?" He asked, and he had to admit, it was not that bad,

"God yes!" I said, "Everyone loved Frank; and the girls went wild for him," I nestled against Erik's chest. He was not feeling too much pain at the moment because he had just taken one of the pills the doctor had prescribed for him.

"Really?" Erik asked me, interested, "And what about you? Are you _wild_ for Frankie?"

I laughed, "Well, he does have an amazing voice,"

"I bet I can sing better than him," Erik said without hesitation,

I snorted, "You think you can sing better than _Frank_ _Sinatra_? _The_ _Voice_? _Ol'_ _Blue_ _Eyes_? I don't believe it," I teased him,

"Alright, I'll prove it," He said; he was the Angel of Music goddamn it, he thought, he could take on The Sultan of Swoon, "Just restart this song and turn it down a bit,"

I laughed and did as he asked. Then I settled down beside him and waited for the show to start,

The first few bars of the song when by and then… "Start spreading the news…"

I sat up in shock; I had been ready to say that he was much better and sexier than Frank Sinatra even if he sang like a rusty hinge. I had not been ready for him to actually sing better than Frank Sinatra. I turned slightly and watched him in wonder,

"I'm leaving today…" It had been awhile since the last time Erik had sung anything, but it turned out that when you dedicate such a great portion of your life to something, you don't forget it too easy. Erik knew by the look on my face he was succeeding,

"I want to be a part of it – New York, New York," I was ready to swoon,

"These vagabond shoes, are longing to stray," My heart beat quickened, his voice was deep and rich and soothing,

"Right through the very heart of it, - New York New York," He was smiling at the bewildered look on my face, "I told you I could sing better," He said to me,

"Don't stop!" I cried; though I had never heard him sing before I now felt I never wanted to hear anything else ever again,

Erik laughed, "These little town blues, are melting away, I'll make a brand new start of it, in old New York,"

"If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere, it's up to you, New York New York," as he finished I could no longer hold myself back; I kissed him as though I had not kissed him in a year; as though my very life depended on it. Due to the pain killer he had just taken, Erik was able to enjoy this; he moved his arm and wrapped it about me, skimming his fingers up and down my back, and he returned my kiss with equal passion.

When we broke apart I was gasping for air, "Alright…" I managed to say, "You _are_ better,"

He leaned forward to kiss me again, "You are damn right I am," He smiled before he pressed his lips hungrily to mine. Suddenly this was not enough; I needed more. Hurriedly I removed the shirt I was wearing. I knew we still could not really have sex, but it had been so long, I just needed to be touched by him again.

I trembled as his hand grazed over my breast. I realized that he would have trouble undoing my bra with only one hand so I took it off for him. I sighed with pleasure as his lips trailed down my neck, sucking gently before he moved lower. Feeling his lips against my breast again I began to tremble. It had been so long since we had been so intimate and I had missed him so badly.

It occurred to me suddenly how badly I wanted to be with him, and not just be in bed with him. I wanted all of him; I wanted to love him with all my heart for as long as I lived. My God, I thought, I wanted to be his wife.

I had come very close to losing him many times. First his face, then when he thought I wanted to be with Mark, and then when he had almost died. After all that, all I wanted was to be happy together. Why bother brining up the past?

Why bother indeed, Erik thought as he kissed me. He had thought it all over while he had been in the hospital. He was astounded that I had taken him back; it was more than he deserved. He knew now that since he had been lucky enough to get me back, he never wanted to risk losing me again. He would ask me to marry him. However, what of his past?

Should he tell me that he was from the year 1882? Should he mention that he was once the Opera Ghost? Erik felt he owed me the truth, but how was he supposed to explain that on the worst day of his life he had been transported to New York City?

Erik decided we would decide later. At the moment, all that was on his mind was me. And all that was on my mind was my own Ol Blue Eyed angel.


	19. Up Where the Air is clear

Up Where the Air is Clear

"So you're back together?" Rebecca asked me,

"Yup," I responded with unabashed delight, "We are,"

"Officially?" Jackie asked, sounding as though she hoped I would respond in the negative,

"Yes officially," I said firmly. We were all taking a late lunch at a new restaurant Jackie was checking out for a possible mention in VOGUE. True, she was an editor, but she had made her start as a journalist and her instincts were better than anyone else at the magazine.

"I think it's wonderful," Susan said supportively, "It just shows how true love is stronger than anything else,"

"No, it just shows how silly women can be," Jackie stared at me, "I don't care what they say, true love is not stronger than a wondering eye,"

"Erik does not have a wondering eye!" I cried desperately, "It was all just a big misunderstanding,"

"Yeah, a misunderstanding that left you with a broken heart," Rebecca pointed out,

"Are you going to let him hurt you all over again?" Jackie asked skeptically,

"He won't hurt me again; he loves me," I said defiantly,

"I believe you Liv," Susan came to my aid, "I always thought he was sweet, and I am happy for you two!"

"Well, it looks like you are the only one," I said, staring at my two other stony faced friends,

"We just don't want you to get hurt again," Jackie said soothingly,

"I won't get hurt," I said,

"And what if he does it all over again? What if he just ends up breaking your heart again?"

"It's his to break," My friends, even Susan, looked at me as though I had gone over to the dark side.

As I walked back to my office I wondered; was I too quick to jump back in bed with him? Would he still be just as stubborn and pigheaded? And then I made a decision. I really loved him, and that meant that it was worth the risk.

Erik wished he could make up his mind that easily. As he was taking time off of work to heal, he spent most of the day alone in my apartment thinking. There was never anything good to watch on TV during the day so he watched most of the movies I had collected over the years. He had hoped for some sort of help, but no where in Breakfast at Tiffany's, or The Way We Were, or Chicago did he find anything about a boyfriend who had to tell his girlfriend he was from 1882.

He wondered if he should even bother. He felt he was no longer that man anyway. Erik could not even remember what it was like to live underground and do without modern conveniences. He no longer spoke in an old world manner; he said shit and fuck and get the hell out of my way instead of excuse me. If that man of the past was truly gone did he need to bring him up? Why resurrect the dead?

And then he would think again; he felt that by not telling me, he was lying to the person he cared about the most. Could he really keep doing that for the rest of his life? Sometimes he felt the secret weighed on him so much he just wanted to shout out the truth. But then he would stop. What if I did not believe him? What if I thought he was crazy and left him? Erik decided that he would rather face every day with the cloud of the truth over him than risk losing me.

The Christmas season was in full swing. Every night after work, I saw happy couples doing their shopping together, and I saw not so happy couples fighting over what to get their in laws.

The streets were covered in snow. This was good for the Christmas atmosphere but not so good for my heals. Still, I was excited. For the first time in a long time, I had someone to be with during the holiday season. I couldn't wait to get a little tree, and buy gifts, and wake up on Christmas morning…go out into the living room…just me, Erik, and Sammy…

"Olivia,"

"Wha-?" I jerked out of this dream as Erik called my name; I looked up and saw he was holding the phone,

"It's for you," Erik was sitting on the sofa, holding the phone out to me,

"Oh," I took it, "Hello?"

"Olivia! How are you?" Dear God, it was my sister Lily,

"Great!" But I didn't think it sounded genuine, and I gave Erik a look of desperation as though the credit card company had just called me about the too many dresses I had bought at Bergdorfs, "How…how are you?" I found a pen and paper as Lily spoke.

"I'm fine, so is James," James was her husband; another lawyer who had a small but successful practice in Rochester. Truth be told, he was a bit of a prick. "And so are the kids…" Lily had two kids; Andrea, who was about sixteen now (thought the last time I had seen her she had been twelve) and little Harry, who was about twelve now (eight the last time I saw him) "But listen, I am calling about this Christmas…"

I took the pen and paper I had found and quickly scribbled on it, 'Get me off the phone," And I gave it to Erik. He took the paper and wrote on it, 'say you have to go; the Opera House is on fire,"

I was so desperate to get off the phone with her I didn't even think as I said, "I have to go, the Opera House is on fire," the moment I heard it I glared at Erik, slapping his shoulder as he laughed at me.

"I can't believe you said it!" He whooped as he laughed,

"What?" Lily had been telling me all about the dinner feast she was planning on baking for Christmas, "What Opera House?"

"Never mind," I sighed, resigning myself to the conversation, "Go on…"

Talking to Lily Black was like talking to the Martha Stuart Living magazine. It was only relatively interesting, and it was always entirely too long. I rested my head in my hands as she droned on about the homemade centerpieces she had.

"Anyway, I can tell I am boring you," Lily said finally, "You never did care much about proper home décor,"

"Nope, never did," I said proudly,

"So, I will get to the point," Finally, I thought, "As you, well you probably don't know, being so far away, Mother has been complaining lately that we all never see each other, so I thought that this Christmas we could all get together,"

Oh dear God, "I really can't," and I really couldn't, "Erik can't travel and I have to take care of him,"

"Who is Erik?" Lily asked confused. Wow, I really didn't tell her anything.

"_Erik_ is my boyfriend," I said, causing Erik to turn and watch me closely,

"You are putting a _boyfriend_ before your family?" Lily asked indignantly. I scowled; if she had to choose between our mother and her precious James it would be him all the way. But that would be ok, because they were married. I decided I would tell her just that.

"Well, that's different," Lily said angrily, "We are _married_,"

I knew it, "So?"

"So it's different!" Lily protested indignantly, "We love each other,"

"Well I love Erik," I said truthfully. Beside me Erik decided that hearing those words were too important; he could never tell me the truth if it meant having to lose me. Erik put his good arm around me. Before I knew it he snatched the phone out of my hands.

"Hello Lily," He said into the receiver. I heard her voice ask,

"Who is this?"

"This is Erik," He said smoothly, "And let me assure you, she will be home for Christmas,"

"Erik!" I hissed at him, trying to grab the phone from him,

"Well…tell her…um…tell her to call me when she has a flight in then," Lily sounded rather put off by Erik's sudden seizure of the phone, and the situation,

"I'll tell her," he smiled at I looked furiously at him, "Goodbye," Erik hung up the phone and handed it back to me.

"What the hell did you do that for?" I asked,

"Don't you want to see your family?" Erik had to admit he was confused; if he had had a family that wanted to see him, he would have gone.

"No," I said, "It's always so awkward, and all anyone ever does is try to show off how much money they have,"

"Still, they are you family," Erik reasoned, "And they want to see you,"

"So? I never see you talking to your family," I had no idea that his mother had left him when he was a child and he never knew his father,

"Well…" Erik began uncomfortably, "My mother…she left me…when I was younger, and my father…well I never knew him…and I had no other siblings…"

"Oh…" I suddenly felt like the biggest jerk in New York, and that includes all the people who never move out of the way when you are walking down the street. Of course, I had always had a family; I took it for granted that they would always be there.

"Well, I guess we could go…but won't it be hard for you to get on a plain?" I asked Erik,

"I'll manage," He said, although the thought of a plain did unsettle him a bit,

I sighed, snuggling up against him, "I'll get us tickets tomorrow; I was just thinking that we would spend a quiet Christmas here together. Just you and me and Sammy. And we could get a tree and decorate it, and just lay around here…I could wear the new Teddy I bought…"

"You know, if you don't want to we really don't have to go to see your family," Erik said; I laughed.

By the next day, I had two plain tickets to Rochester. I also had to think quickly; what the hell I was going to get Erik for Christmas now had to be decided sooner because we would be leaving a week before Christmas. I figured if I was going I might as well go for more than a day. It was also less expensive not to fly too close to the holiday.

Erik was in a worse predicament. He was apartment bound. And then he discovered the wonders of internet shopping. As he clicked on "buy" he had to laugh at himself. He never stopped being amazed at how he had picked up on the technology of the twenty first century. If the people at the opera could see him now…

He found he could not help but think about his past sometimes. He wondered what everyone else was doing; Christine must have been married to Raoul by now. Perhaps the Opera was going to reopen. And every time he thought about this, he wondered again if it was right to keep it from me.

The truth was, he was not the only one with the past on the mind.

Christine sat in her lavish bedroom. She was perched on her vanity bench, her large, ornate sliver brush clasped in her hand. However she had given up on her long hair and now she was simply staring out the window, watching the snow fall outside.

She was happy; blissfully happy in her marriage to Raoul. He was kind and thoughtful, and he refrained from doing some of the less gentlemanly things married men sometimes do. In fact, the only problem she ever faced with him was that sometimes he was gone too long.

No, it was not a problem with her marriage that was distracting her. What was bothering her was…Well it had all started when she had heard that the Opera would be opening again in the spring. It had made her begin to think, as she sometimes did, about the man whose life she had ruined.

Christine sighed. She knew it was not her fault, and that more than anyone she loved Raoul. She had never loved Erik in the way she loved her husband. However, she still felt awful about what had happened. After that last night, no one had ever found his body and she wondered where he was.

She supposed that where ever he was, he was miserable to the core. She shifted her gaze from the window to the mirror. She stared at her reflection and smiled to herself. She was proud to be called one of the most beautiful women in Paris. Then Christine's smiled faded. No matter what, she always felt terrible when she thought of Erik.

How she had devastated him. She remembered leaving him, and how crushed and hopeless he had been. Christine shook her head and resumed brushing her hair. How heartbreaking that man is, she thought. Christine knew all he really wanted was love, but she had been unable to give it and she doubted that he would ever find the happiness that he sought.

At that moment the door to her room opened, "Christine?"

She sprung from her bench and rushed toward her husband.

"Darling! I've missed you!"

Raoul smiled and kissed his wife quickly and lightly on the lips, "I have missed you as well my dearest, are you nearly ready?"

"Oh yes, I have my dress picked out and everything; I have spent all day getting everything ready to go," That night they would be attending the first of a series of balls which would culminate in the Christmas and then the New Years galas.

Christine tightly embraced her husband. Raoul felt terrible; he had some news for his wife, and he did not think it would go over well, "Darling, I have something to tell you,"

"Yes dear?" Christine smiled up at him,

"Well, you know how busy I have been lately," he began, "I am afraid that, due to business, I will not be here for Christmas,"

Christine felt her perfect world slow a bit. She inhaled deeply and tried to keep the look of disappointment off her face. She and her husband would not be spending their first Christmas as a married couple together. Raoul left and Christine returned to her vanity; this is how Erik must feel she thought miserably.

Had she known it, she could not have been farther from the truth. Erik was actually elated. Having just bought me what he hoped what the right amount a formerly stupid boyfriend was supposed to buy his girlfriend, he was now thinking about the prospect of meeting my family.

What he hoped was that it all went over well, and that he would be able to ask my father for permission to marry me. As he limped back to the sofa, it occurred to him that as I lived on my own in the city, bought whatever I wanted, had premarital sex, and paid all my own bills, I would probably not care if my father wanted him to marry me or not.

Still, Erik felt nervous as we waited in the airport. Our plane was delayed due to bad weather.

"Do you feel alright?" I asked him, wondering if he was in pain from the journey to the airport,

"I'm fine Olivia," he could not keep the exasperation out of his voice; I had asked him if he was feeling alright every five seconds since we had left the house. It had been hard to leave, and we had had to leave Sammy with Susan. I had not been able to find a hotel that would accommodate dogs and I would be damned if I was going to stay with any of my relatives.

Eventually we were able to board. Erik had no idea what he was doing. He had never been in an airport. Security had been an interesting adventure; Erik still did not quite understand why he had needed to remove his shoe.

He watched me as I showed my boarding pass and mimicked my actions, hobbling along behind me. I was weighed down as well; I my two coach carry on bags along with Erik's small black bag. We settled down into our first class seats, but Erik's nerves were far from settling down. In just a few moments, he would be hurdled into the sky.

I sensed his uneasiness. Placing my hand over his I smiled, "You don't like flying do you?"

"No," he said quickly, "I love flying; I am perfectly at easy in this…flying death trap," He looked sidelong at the exit,

I laughed, "We will be fine Erik! It's not even a long flight! How did you ever stand coming from Paris?"

Erik swallowed, but he did not think that now would be the best time to say that he had not flown, he had be magically transported through space and time. So, he said the next best thing, "I was drunk,"

I laughed and shook my head, settling down in my seat as the rest of the passengers on the plane filed by. Erik tired to concentrate on something, anything else, as the flight attendants walked up and down the rows checking to make sure the overhead bins were closed.

As they demonstrated what to do incase of an emergency Erik felt his stomach tighten. He had been in once terrible crash from which he was still not healed. He did not want to experience another one.

All Erik wanted was to take off; however it began to snow again so we had to wait. I leaned against Erik's good shoulder. He was in the window seat and by leaning back I could see the snow falling past the window.

"It's really coming down," Erik said in a would be calm voice,

"Oh this?" I asked, "This is nothing, wait until we get to Rochester,"

"There is a lot more?" Erik asked,

"God yes," I shut my eyes and leaned on his should.

Erik stared at my peaceful face and he wondered how it was possible for me to be so relaxed knowing that any second, we would be shooting up into the sky and leaving the solid, safe ground far below.

Minutes later, Erik's full attention was taken by the flight attendants demonstration of what to do in case of an emergency. As the seconds ticked by to takeoff, Erik's grip tightened on my arm.

"You really hate flying," I said sleepily; it had been a long day and something about plane always made me tired,

Erik just grumbled. The plain began to move, slowly at first and then with growing speed it moved down the runway. Erik tensed as the wheels of the plane left the ground for the sky.

It was a surreal feeling and there was a bazaar popping in his ears. The plane continued to climb and Erik tried not took look out the window or think about the fact that he was so high in the sky. I watched Erik with interest, for a man who was so fascinated with technology I did not know why this bothered him so. But then again, people are funny about flying.

The plane leveled out once and I smiled at Erik's uneasy face.

"Darling," I said, "Relax, look out the window,"

Erik shook his head, "Not now,"

"You have to look now," I said, "Look! You will miss it if you don't!"

With a sigh Erik turned his head, and then his breath left him completely. What he was looking at was like something from another world. He had been high in the air on tops of buildings, but never anything like this.

As far as he could see a white expanse stretched out. The clouds looked as though they could have been the ground itself. And staining this ocean of white was the vibrant colors of the early sunset. Deep reds and oranges tipped the white clouds.

"My God," Erik murmured,

"It's amazing, isn't it?" I said, smiling at the astonished look on his face,

"It certainly is," Never in his wildest dreams had Erik thought that he would see something quite so beautiful. And never did he think he would have someone to share it with. I was leaning slightly on his chest and he kissed the top of my head in the most adorable fashion.

"It certainly is amazing,"


	20. Sex in Another City

Sex in another City

By the time we touched down it was completely dark outside and still snowing. We ambled off the plane, and as we left I could not help but catch the look the blond flight attendant gave Erik as we passed. I glared at her and she looked away.

Erik did not notice at all. He was more elated at the fact that he had survived the flight, and in all truthfulness he had very little fright left for the airplane. In fact, he was now just as fascinated by the technology that enabled a massive object like the plane to stay airborne as he had been by my television set.

"That was not so bad now was it?" I asked Erik as we waited to pick up our luggage in the tiny tine Rochester Airport.

"No, it was quite fascinating actually," I laughed. Had I known why it was so fascinating to him I might not have found it so funny.

It was difficult to get our luggage to the rental car pick up. I got one of those luggage pulley things, but I had packed so much that my bags kept toppling off of it. The worst part was I could tell Erik was in pain and needed to relax and sit down.

It was freezing outside, I was shivering in my Prada trench coat, and I got the bags into the car as quickly as I could. I told Erik to sit in the car while I did this. As expected, his manly pride prevented him from doing this and he stood beside me, shivering in the cold.

We drove out from the parking garage and Erik got his first taste of Rochester.

"It's…" He began,

"Tiny compared to New York," I finished for him,

"It is," Erik said as he looked out the window, "It…like a baby city,"

I laughed, "No it's like a black sheep city; I have said all my life the Upstate New York is the weird cousin New York City never talks about,"

It was Erik's turn to laugh, "I can tell you have put some thought into this,"

"Just a little," I smiled in the dark.

We finally arrived at the hotel. It was nice enough, no Plaza but it would do. I asked a confused looking bell hop to help me bring the bags up to our room. In Rochester, people carry luggage for themselves. However, as it was me verses an army of my own wardrobe, Erik's things, plus multiple Christmas presents, I called in reinforcements.

All totaled, it was very late by the time Erik and I were settled into our room. Erik sat gratefully on the bed and turned on the TV while I jumped in the shower. Erik felt exhausted and he figured he would fall asleep quite soon. He was already dressed in sweatpants and a sweater. Not his own fashion choice, but the only thing he really could comfortably wear with casts.

When I came out of the bathroom he was already nodding. He woke up slightly more on my entrance however.

"How's the bed?" I asked him as I put away the clothes I had been wearing,

"Very nice, come and see for yourself," He said sleepily,

I gladly climbed into the bed; the room was cold and I was grateful for the warm Erik, and the comforter, offered. I slid up beside him and closed my eyes as I draped an arm over him. It was then that I realized how miserable I would have been going home and staying in a hotel without him.

I opened my eyes again, "I'm really happy you're here with me," I said,

Erik had nearly been asleep but the sound of my voice saying these words kept him awake, "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," he tightened the arm he had placed around me.

I don't remember ever being so happy, and for me to say that while in a hotel in Rochester when I have been living in New York City in an amazing apartment, was really saying something.

The way things were planned, I would not have to see my family for another couple of days. Christmas was not until Sunday and it was only Wednesday. So, we got to sleep in late and stay in bed for most of the day. There were things I had to do though.

"Erik, I should get up," It was about three in the afternoon and I had hardly moved out of the bed. I made to dislodge myself from his arm.

"No you shouldn't," He said, and I relaxed against him again, "We have all we need here," He continued, "Food," he pointed at the bag of chips between us, "Drink," He pointed at the water on the bedside table, "And entertainment, well…sort of entertainment," We were watching King Arthur on HBO. It was a bit of a bad movie.

"I know, and I don't want to leave," I said, "But I still have to get things for my family and I don't want to wait another day because everything will be gone,"

Erik sighed, "I just wish I could go with you," He glanced at his arm and leg,

"I'll be back soon," I promised him, kissing him lightly as I got out of the bed. The moment I stood I felt the cold air rush to my body, "God its freezing!"

"That's why you should stay here," Erik said, watching me as I hurried to get on my warm robe,

"Believe me I would love to," I said, "But if I show up at my family's house with only gifts for you…"

"And what would those gifts be?" Erik said cunningly,

I laughed, "I am _not_ going to tell you! It'll ruin all the fun,"

Erik laughed as I went into the bathroom. He was as excited for Christmas as most small children were. This was because he had never had a Christmas before. He had never had anyone give him anything, except fear and loathing, and he had never had anyone to give anything to. Unless you counted Christine, Erik thought, and he did not because the only thing he had ever given Christine that she had actually wanted was her voice.

"Alright," I came out of the bathroom and pulled on my trench, "I'll be back as soon as I can; do you want me to bring something home for dinner?"

"We could just go out," He suggested,

"Are you up to that?" I asked,

"I'm not dying Olivia," Erik said sternly,

"Ok," I understood that it must be hard for him to be unable to have the full freedom of his body, "When I get back we'll pick somewhere to go,"

I kissed Erik goodbye and hurried off to the tiny Marketplace Mall. As I reached the parking lot and climbed into the car, it occurred to me that Erik had just _requested_ that we go out. I laughed, remembering when I had had to bend his arm to get him to even go outside.

Up in the hotel room Erik had just realized the same thing. He had to laugh as well; it seemed that that Erik was now left far behind, and he could not imagine _not_ going out.

The mall was very busy; which meant that it looked like a normal New York City street. There were the usually corny Christmas decorations; the big red ribbons hanging from the ceiling, fake snow, and of course a fake Santa taking pictures with a bunch of children. I noticed as I passed that all of these kids were in varying degrees of happiness ranging from delighted to absolutely miserable.

I found I was somewhere in between emotions as well. I was happy that Erik was here with me, but I felt absolute dread when I thought of mixing him with my family. I had never brought a boyfriend home before; I was to scared he would turn and run when he met the family I was from.

My sister and her husband would look down on him (they looked down on everyone from the city) their children would annoy him; my mother would say embarrassing things…the only one I was not worried about was my father. He usually got along with everyone. And of course, if my oldest sister Andy had come…

"Olivia!" I whipped around, shocked, "Andy!" I was the youngest of my sisters, and my oldest sister Andy was a journalist who lived in San Francisco. She was married to a very successful artist who had grown up in France. We were always on good terms, but we were both so busy I hardly ever got the chance to see her or speak to here, and she hardly ever came home.

"Andy!" I yelled and ran to embrace her, "Why didn't you tell me you were coming!"

"I wanted to surprise you!" she said happily. I turned to greet her husband, Leo, who appeared to be carrying all the things they had bought.

"Lily called me and I told her not to tell you," Andy continued, "I always knew she would be good for something," I smiled at her. She looked exactly the way she had when I had seen her three years ago; she had come out for my wedding that had never happened. "Hey, Lily told me you brought somebody; where is he?"

I smiled again. I knew Andy would be happy for me; she had seen how upset I had been after Mark. "He's back at the hotel; he was in a car accident and he broke his arm and leg,"

"Oh my God! That's awful!" Andy was quite sincere,

"But he will be at the house for Christmas," I added,

"Liv, hasn't the poor man been through enough?" Andy laughed,

I laughed to, "What are you two doing tonight?"

"Well, I was planning on calling and surprising you, but I guess I just did that so…dinner? Around eight?" Andy said,

"Perfect, where?"

Andy stopped, "I don't even know what places are around here anymore!" she laughed,

"Me neither," I laughed along with her, "I passed an Olive Garden on the way over here,"

"As long as they serve food,"

And so, at the end of the day, I returned to the hotel with packages in hand and dinner plans in head.

Erik had spent the time I was gone sleeping and half watching another Law and Order marathon. He kept having the strangest dream; I was a detective and I kept figuring out where he had really come from. He was glad I was back to keep him awake.

"Did you find everything you needed?" Erik asked, and he eyed the numerous bags in my hands,

"Yes," I smiled, dropped the bags and climbed onto the bed, "And I found something else too," I kissed him on the cheek, "I ran into my sister,"

"Lily?" He asked,

"No my other sister Andy,"

"How many sisters do you have?"

I smiled, "Just the two; Andy lives in San Francisco and she came up here and surprised me!" I snuggled down beside him on the bed, "We are meeting her and her husband tonight at eight,"

Erik could tell I was happy about this, so he was determined not to show his nerves. He could tell I actually liked this sister, so he actually had to impress this sister.

At quarter to eight we made it down to the car. It was difficult for Erik to get ready; he could not get his casts wet and usually I had to help him. He did however, exchange his sweats for slacks and a button up shirt and coat. Erik got into the passengers side, with some difficulty and I climbed into the driver's side.

"Do you still want to learn how to drive?" I asked Erik as we pulled out of the hotel,

Erik looked down at the cast on his leg, "Maybe later,"

I nodded, "So where are we going?" Erik asked me,

"Olive Garden," I said, "It's the only place we could think of that was not completely hideous,"

"As long as they serve food," Erik said,

"That's exactly what Andy said!" I exclaimed, "You are going to love her! She's really great, and her husband is really interesting too; and he's French! So you two should have a lot to talk about,"

Erik felt his stomach twist a little. Erik's guess was that France had changed some since he had last been there 124 years ago. Andy's husband probably knew a lot about things there that he did not. What if he asked Erik what street he used to live on? Or where he used to work?

He looked over at me. Would it be better to just tell me now? "Olivia?" he began as I pulled the car into the parking lot and found a space,

"Yeah?" I looked at him as I put the car in park,

The words were on his lips, and then he stared at me. My eyes were wide and innocent seeming; and he couldn't do it. "I love you," he finished.

I smiled widely, "I love you two,"

I'm a coward Erik thought bitterly as he followed me inside. I scanned the lobby and saw my sister and her husband waiting there already.

"Andy!" I greeted her with the same ferocious hug I had earlier in the mall. I hugged Leo as well. Erik stood awkwardly behind me. He scanned the room quickly and caught sight of himself in a mirror. He suddenly remembered that as far as these people were concerned, he was never anything but a normal man. Erik felt him confidence rise as I stepped back and introduced him,

"Andy, Leo, this is Erik Duval, Erik, this is my sister Andy and her husband Leo Orlick,"

Leo extended a hand, and then switched hands because he realized which of Erik's arms was in a cast. Andy was never a hand shaker; she just hugged him.

"It's so good to meet you!" Andy smiled, "Olivia has told me so much about you,"

"Well then I am sorry your sister subjected you to that," Erik said nervously; he already felt awkward compared to Leo, who stood relaxed next to his wife.

"Don't be silly!" Andy said, and at that moment the little black round thing in Andy's hand began to vibrate, indicating that our table was ready, "Oh God, it's trying to attack me!" Andy was unfamiliar with this mode of calling one to ones seat.

"I think that means they are ready for us," I laughed as my sister looked suspiciously at the black round thing.

As we followed the host back to a table, Erik realized that for the first time, he knew without any doubt that no one was looking at him at though he was some sort of freak. He had convinced himself that he did not care, and that the sidelong glances and murmurs meant nothing, but in truth it still bothered him. But now, he knew that the only people who were looking at him were the ones who were wondering how he broken his arm and leg.

This was all only a fleeting thought in Erik's mind; like momentarily considering purchasing an outfit you know you will only wear once. Erik had bigger things on his mind. He stared across the table at Andy and Leo.

Four dinner orders and some red wine later, we finally started talking.

"So," Andy, never at a lack for words or bluntness, began, "How long have you two know each other?"

"Since…" I looked at Erik and thought,

"Since the beginning of the summer," Erik finished for me; thinking briefly of that time when he had first met me. It was strange, Erik thought, at that time he had thought that he might be able to live without me, but now he knew he could not. And what was more, I was thinking the same thing about him.

"Ah, and how did you meet?" Andy continued, interested,

"He moved into my building," I said, and under the table I placed my hand on his thigh,

Erik momentarily reviled in my light touch before speaking, "I literally ran into her one morning; she was late and trying to pull on those high heals she wears,"

Leo smiled and Andy laughed out loud, "That sounds like my sister…so how did you ask her out?"

"Well I didn't actually," Erik said, milling over the strange way our first date had come about, "She was trying to get away from a…what did you call him?" Erik looked at me,

"Toxic bachelor," I said quickly,

"Yes, that…and so she lied to him and said she had plans with me,"

"And you what? Just pulled him into a cab and drove off?" Andy was smiling widely and our odd little New York fairy tale.

I nodded guiltily and turned to Erik, "You must have thought I was absolutely mad for doing that…We didn't even know each other's names!" I did not mention that at the time I had thought he was the one who was mad.

"I just thought maybe it was something American girls do," Erik smiled at me, and under the table he placed his hand over mine on his leg.

"Ah yes," Leo spoke up, "You are hiding your accent well but I can tell you are from France yes?"

Erik felt his heartbeat quicken as the subject he feared came up, "yes," he said,

"Where in France?" Leo asked interested,

"Paris," Erik knew that whatever had happened, at least Paris was still a city in France,

"I lived in Paris for five years; marvelous city, tell me, where did you live?"

Shit, Erik thought. He should have been prepared for this. He knew this would come up! And what could he say? The only residence he had ever retained in Paris was under the friggin' opera! And he could not say that…so the truth was out. To make things worse, the only time he had left his underground abode was when he needed supplies for something, and this hardly provided him with any knowledge about the residential areas and street names.

Realizing that it was taking him entirely too long to answer a very simple question, a name suddenly popped into his head. The Persian…

Erik blurted out the name of the street and apartment number where the Persian used to live and hoped.

"Hmm, never hear of it," Leo said, but to Erik's relief his voice was completely un suspicious, "Paris is one of those cities though, where you can live in it all your life and still not know ever street name,"

Erik nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. He also let out a huge, mental sigh of relief.

"So where did you work in Paris?" Leo asked,

Shit Erik thought again.

"I used to write music, but I doubt you would have ever heard any of it," Erik added quickly, "I was not very good,"

"Oh no!" I said, "You're very talented! I've heard you sing, and you played the organ at the wedding…"

"At whose wedding?" Andy asked quickly, and Erik hoped that this might turn the conversation in another direction.

"Elizabeth Parker and Dwight Munroe," I said, "Their organist fainted and Erik stepped in instead," I beamed at Erik as I remembered that day in August when we had gone to the wedding together.

"Yes, it was all very nice, until your friend's boyfriend elbowed me in the eye," Erik narrowed his eyes in a teasing sort of way that made him look very handsome.

"Well, that was too bad…" I smiled as I remembered him holding the frozen corn to his eye,

"Wait what happened?" Andy and Leo leaned in closer,

"You remember my friend Susan?" I began, "Her boyfriend at the time was jealous of Erik…"

"He was a loony," Erik muttered,

"And he accidentally on purpose elbowed Erik in the eye on the dance floor,"

"Poor man!" Andy looked sympathetic even though she was smiling, "So you've had a hurt eye and now your whole body is broken! What is Olivia doing to you?"

"I'd tell you," Erik said, taking a sip of the red wine, "But there are children at the next table," everyone laughed.

The rest of the dinner went on in the same way; pleasant conversation and amusing anecdotes. To Erik's delight, the topic of his time in Paris did not come up again. Full, I made an announcement,

"I'm going to the bathroom," I said,

"Congratulations," Erik teased me. I threw him a would be angry look,

"You are lucky you are so cute," I said to him,

"I think I will go too," Andy said standing with me.

Together we walked to the bathroom,

"Well Liv, you've finally done it," Andy said once we got into the bathroom, "You finally found a man that's worth your time,"

"So you like him?" I turned happily toward her,

"Olivia he's wonderful! I always said the French ones were the best," Andy hugged me, "And you love him?"

"With all my heart," I answered honestly,

"So is there a wedding in the future?" Andy asked excitedly,

"If he asks I will say yes," I said,

"Olivia…my baby sister is in love!" Andy squealed and she hugged me. I hugged her back and sort of jumped up and down. A woman came out of one of the stalls behind us and stared at us before quickly leaving.

"Oh, I'm so happy for you," Andy beamed at me and I knew what she meant without her having to say it. She had seen how hurt I had been after Mark. Andy knew what it would take for me to actually want to marry a man again.

While Andy and I shared a sweet sister moment, Erik and Leo shared an awkward moment. Leo finally broke the tension by speaking, in French.

"You and Olivia seem very happy together,"

It took Erik a moment to process what he had said; it had been so long since he had heard the French language being spoken, and it had changed some since he had last been familiar with it. Still, he understood and responded, "We are,"

"That it good, because no one deserves it more that Olivia; she has mentioned Mark Berry to you?" But Leo did not need Erik to answer; he knew by the sudden flash of anger in his eyes that Erik knew what had happened. "I have come to think of Olivia as a younger sister, and I hated to see her so devastated…I imagine that will not happen again?"

Erik felt a heat rise within him, but he could not be angry with Leo; he had my best interests at heart. Erik shook his head, "I would never do anything to cause her pain,"

Leo nodded and they were silent for a moment. Then Erik spoke, "You and Andy…how long have you two been married?"

The expression on Leo's face changed completely. Though he laughed often he usually wore a sarcastic smile and just now, speaking to Erik, he had been quite tough seeming. However at the mention of Andy he cracked a genuine smile and his eye lit slightly, "Almost ten years now,"

"That's quite awhile; congratulations," Erik said,

"I still remember everything about the day I first met her; she came to interview me about an upcoming gallery opening of mine. Her hair was long then, if you can imagine, and she wore a blue dress with black heals," He smiled and shook his head, "I knew I loved her the moment I saw her,"

Erik blinked and nodded, for once understanding what someone meant when they talked about love. "We only dated for a month before I proposed," Leo continued, "Everyone thought we were mad, except for Olivia. She supported us all the way; she even helped me pick out the ring I gave to Andy," Leo paused for a moment, "What about you? Do you plan to propose?"

He nodded and opened his mouth to speak but then he saw Andy and me returning. Hurriedly he whispered, "I do, I'm just waiting for the right time," And there was no time for Leo to respond before we reached the table.

"What are you laughing about?" Erik asked me, switching back to English.

Andy and I were both still giggling at what we had seen on the way back to the table, "You two Frenchmen are creating quite a stir," I explained, "Every woman in the restaurant was staring at this table while you two were speaking,"

"And while we were in the bathroom two more women had come in, both completely taken by the two Frenchmen at the next table," Andy laughed as she told this story. Then she craned her neck slightly, "Ah yes there they are," she indicated the table behind them, "The blond has claimed you darling," Andy patted her husbands knee, "and the brunette feels very bad that you are hurt Erik, but she has sworn to make you feel all better,"

Both Erik and Leo laughed before Leo spoke, "Well, Erik, I think it would be rude if we did not go introduce ourselves to these two ladies,"

"Right you are," and they both made to stand up and leave.

I knew very well they were both joking, but something inside me did not listen to reason. I grabbed Erik's hand with the speed of someone reaching for the last dress in their size at a sample sale.

"Darling you know I'm only joking," Erik said to me softly,

"I know," I said, but I had still not released his hand. The truth was I could not enjoy this the same way Andy could. Andy and Leo were married. Erik and I were in love, but we were not engaged. I did not have the same sort of security Andy did.

Dinner was over and we had to part ways for the time.

"I really have to come out here more often," Andy said as she embraced me. We were standing outside in the parking lot. It had started to snow and we were all shaking slightly.

"And I will have to come out to see you more too," I said before we broke apart.

I moved to Leo and embraced him as well, "It was lovely to see you again," I said to him,

"It's always good to see you Olivia," and then he whispered in my ear, "And it's good to see you so happy,"

Erik stared awkwardly at Andy, "It was very good to meet you," he said, and he extended a hand.

Andy laughed at him, "You're practically family! We don't shake hands!" she embraced him as well, saying in his ear, "Thank you for making my sister so happy,"

Erik did not really know what to say. He patted Andy on the back with his good arm and then she backed away. Erik did shake hands with Leo, who he was relieved he actually liked.

"We'll see you at Christmas!" I said to them as we walked to our cars,

"See you then!" Andy called back.

On the way to the hotel Erik had a lot on his mind. Watching Leo and Andy made him realize how much he wanted what they had. And when Andy had called him 'practically family,' he had realized that if he married me, he would not only be getting a wife. He would be getting sisters and brothers in law, and a mother and father in law. Normally this prospect would scare the Ralph Lauren pants off of a man, but to someone who had never had a mother, or a father, or a sister or brother, it was exciting. Especially since he genuinely liked Andy and Leo.

Seeing Andy and Leo together had affected me as well. I saw their happiness and how much they loved each other. And I knew I wanted that. Erik loved me; I was fairly sure of that. So why had he not proposed?

At the restaurant, it had occurred to me that if Erik did ever want to leave, he could. He was not attached to me. He had not asked me to spend the rest of our lives together. By the time we reached the hotel this was all I could think about. I tried to act as though nothing was bothering me and I retreated to the shower.

Normally the water calmed me, but this time I would not be comforted. What if Erik never proposed? What if I never had what my sister and Leo had? What if I died alone and miserable? The truth was that after Mark I was convinced of this fate. Erik seemed too good to be true…so what if he was? What if everyone around me lived happily ever after and I died alone? I was too far gone to think rationally and I sank to the floor of the shower and started to cry.

I tried to tell myself that I was being foolish and creating a lot of drama for nothing. I reminded myself that Erik loved me, but I still remembered how he had left me after what happened with Mark and I could not control myself.

It happened that Erik picked this moment to retrieve the book he had left in the bathroom. When I heard the door open I tried to stop crying, but Erik heard the sound over the running water anyway.

"Olivia are you alright?" Erik moved to the shower and spoke through the curtain,

"I'm fine," But my voice sounded shaky and he could tell I had been crying. He grabbed the edge of the shower curtain and pulled it back. Erik stared at me shocked; I was still crouched on the floor and my eyes were red.

Quickly he reached for the knobs and turned off the water. Grabbing a towel he handed it to me, "Olivia, what happened? What's wrong?"

Taking a deep breath I wrapped the towel around me, "It's nothing…seeing my sister again; it just brought back a lot of memories,"

Erik stared at me, leaning against the wall for support. He did not understand; everything had gone so well, "What made you so upset?"

"Nothing," I lied, "I just…I see how happy they both are…"

"We're not happy?" Erik searched his memory; had he done something to upset me without realizing it?

"No…we are happy…" there was a long pause. "I just worry sometimes," I began heavily, "When Mark left me I though I would never really love someone again, and then when you left me it killed me…"

"Olivia I'm so sorry," Erik reached out with his good arm and took my hand, "I did a stupid thing and I wish I hadn't, but please believe me; I never want to be away from your side again,"

"Then marry me Erik," I said

"Pardon?" Erik raised his eyebrows,

"I said marry me," my voice was a bit stronger now as I came to a conclusion. My whole life, I had taken a strong approach to get exactly what I wanted out of my career, my wardrobe, my landlord…but when it came to men I always found myself weak and scrambling. "Erik, I can't be in another relationship that ends in heartbreak and I love you too much to just let it run on so…I need to know now; Erik Duval, will you marry me?"


	21. Marry Christmas

Marry Christmas

Erik stared at me. He looked shocked. He was shocked. He had pictured this all differently. Erik had believed that he would have had to beg me and plead with me to win my hand. He had never thought in his wildest dreams that I loved him so much that I could not stand to be without him.

My words echoed in his mind. Yes, I had asked him to marry me. _I_ had asked _him_. The possibility had never even occurred to him. He was not used to this. He was used to proposals which involved threatening someone's life and large explosions and eventually, his own broken heart.

His mind was buzzing. How in the world could this be true? How could he be so lucky? It suddenly occurred to him that he had not answered me yet.

"Olivia," He whispered, and my heart froze. What would he say? "It is important that you know; you are the only person who has ever loved me; and you mean more to me than anything else…and nothing would give me more pleasure than to be your husband,"

I rushed toward him, embracing him tightly. I began to cry again. Erik kissed me once on my lips, and then on my forehead as I fell against him. He blinked and felt that his eyes were wet. This was unbelievable, he thought. Erik had his arm wrapped around my back, but he felt that at that moment, he needed to be closer to me.

"Come," He murmured, and he took me by the hand, hobbling out to the bed. He fell back on the sheets and I toppled down with him. Erik ignored the slight pain in his chest and leg as I lay on top of him. He didn't care. He pressed his hand to the back of my head, lowering my lips to his. He kissed me deeply, passionately. I let go of the towel I had been holding around myself and placed both of my hands on the sides of his face.

The towel was wrapped loosely around me and I felt Erik's hand leave the back of my head, though his lips never left mine, and he slid the towel down my back. I sighed into his mouth as I felt the air hit my skin and his hand slid from my backside all the way up my back and into my hair again.

That night, all Erik wanted to do was give me the pleasure I had given him. He could not do everything, not with his leg cast. But he more than made up for it. His lips, his tongue, his hand, all went into making me feel happy. My body felt completely spent by five in the morning, and I fell asleep on top of him. Erik pulled the comforter over us and then wrapped his arm around me.

Erik woke before I did the next morning. At first, he did not want to open his eyes. He had been having the most wonderful dream; _I_ had asked _him_ to marry _me_. And then he remembered; it was not a dream. His eyes snapped open and he looked down at the top of my head.

Smiling, he stroked my bare back lightly. It was all too good to be true, he thought. How could he possibly deserve this? He was not alone, he was not a monster, and he was _engaged_. It amazed him; the woman he loved loved him so much, I could not stand not being married to him. Erik felt that one thing was missing however.

As gently as he could, he disengaged himself from me. I rolled over, without waking, and browed under the covers. Quietly, Erik crept to his bag. As he reached his luggage he accidentally knocked over one of the other bags. Wincing and turning to face me, he was relieved to see I did not stir.

Slowly, he opened his bag and unzipped one of the side pockets. Careful not to make another sound, he took out the ring box from Tiffany's. He had brought it with him even though he had not been planning on proposing. He had been packing and had just had a feeling. Hobbling back to the bed, he lowered himself down again. The moment his body hit the sheets I rolled back to him, throwing an arm over him in my sleep.

Erik did not breathe for several moments until he was sure I was still asleep. Then, he slowly opened the box. He looked at the large diamond ring for several moments before he took it out. Carefully he found my hand and slid the ring onto my finger.

He waited and watched. I nuzzled my head against him and made a slight noise, but I did not wake. Smiling a little, he placed the ring box on the bedside table and pulled me to him. Now he just had to wait for me to wake up.

I did not wake for another hour, and the way Erik felt during this time could only be described as how a child feels when they are waiting to open presents on Christmas morning.

Finally I opened my eyes.

"Good morning darling," He said to me as I looked up at him,

"Have you been awake long?" I asked, turning so I could see him better,

"No," He lied, "Did you sleep well?"

"Mhmm," I nodded, "Better than I have in years," that was the truth. But now, in the morning light, I could not help but feel foolish. I had acted so rashly and ridiculously the night before, and I was not sure if Erik would acknowledge what had happened or if he would pretend it never did. Somehow I felt like we were not really engaged.

I remembered how silly I must look and I raised a hand to my damp hair. As I tried to run my hand through it, it got stuck on something. I took my hand out of my hair and I noticed something. A flash caught the light in the room.

Looking down at my hand; I saw it.

"Oh my God," I gaped at the ring, "Erik…how?" I looked up at him stunned,

"I was planning on proposing to you; I just wanted everything to be perfect," He reached out and touched my face,

"I-I can't believe this!" I looked down at the ring again, "It's beautiful Erik,"

"I had a whole plan worked out about how I was going to do it…I always thought that when a man proposed he was supposed to do it in a special, romantic way so I was waiting...I never did not want to marry you," Erik explained,

I kissed him.

"Had I known that your idea of a good proposal involved a bathroom and a towel I would have done it long ago," Erik teased me.

I laughed and shook my head, "We can't tell people that is how we got engaged,"

"Alright," Erik said, "In ten minutes when you call your sister, you tell her that you went into the shower last night, and when you came out the room was covered in roses and there were candles all around. I was sitting on the bed with the ring,"

"Is that what you had planned for your proposal?" I asked him,

"Absolutely not," Erik said quickly,

"How were you planning on doing it?" I asked interested,

"I'm not telling," Erik said slyly,

"Erik! That's not fair, tell me…" my hand had been resting on his chest and I moved it down lower…

"No _that's_ not fair," Erik said, and I felt a tremor run though his body, "You could have waited and had the perfect proposal, but _you_ wanted to do it in the _bathroom_," He kissed me again,

I thought about the night before, "What did you mean, Erik, when you said I was the only woman who had ever loved you?"

Erik considered for a moment. He stared at me; to him I was like an angel of mercy, rescuing him from loneliness at last. He thought I was wonderful, and he thought I deserved the truth. But he just could not do it, not yet. He wanted to be just happy for awhile like everyone else. But he did think he could tell me something.

"I did not say that," Erik began, "I said you were the only _person_ who ever loved me," He paused, "And I think that is self explanatory," he paused again, "It's a long story Olivia,"

"I'm not going anywhere," I said softly, and I realized how little I knew about his past.

"Well…when I was born, my father left…because of the way I looked. My mother, she saw me as a punishment more than anything else," he looked away from me,

I placed my hand on Erik's face; remembering how it used to look. I knew it had once been quite shocking; the twisted bumpy flesh and the redness…but still, I could not imagine the kind of cold woman who would not love her own son just because of his face. It hurt me to think that someone had hurt the man I loved so badly.

"Erik…" I whispered, and he looked up at me,

"I didn't have a room really…my mother kept me in the basement," Erik continued,

"God!" I said, and I was not sure if I felt more angry or sad, "Couldn't child services have done something?"

Erik did not know what child services was, so he just shrugged, "When I was old enough I left home, and I have been alone ever since,"

"What about that girl you almost married?" I asked softly,

"Christine," Erik sighed, remembering when that very name was enough to crush his soul. Now it was just a tragic reminder of his past, "She never loved me…she used me to get what she wanted, and then she left me," he looked away again and I regretted bringing this up at all, "So when I said," Erik spoke and looked right at me again, "That you are the only person who ever loved me, I meant just that,"

We were silent for awhile.

"Erik…I'm sorry…" I said finally, not knowing what else I could say,

"No, no…It's alright; talking about it just reminds me how far I have come," It was true, Erik thought as he looked at me, entwining my hand in his and feeling the ring on my finger. He had come a long way since that cold, dark basement. It had taken awhile, nearly 124 years, but he had finally found a home, and some one who loved him.

I opened my mouth to speak but my throat was too tight. I leaned forward and tenderly pressed my lips to Erik's. He forgot about all the pain of his past and he focused on what he had at the moment. He loved that he had me in bed, wearing nothing but his engagement ring. And I belonged to him; I wanted him so badly I had asked him to marry me.

When I broke away I had figured out what I needed to say, "You don't have to feel that way ever again; _I_ love you, and that will never change,"

"I know," Erik smiled at me, and for once, he really truly knew, without a doubt, that he was wanted.

We lay in bed for awhile longer. I could not have been more comfortable; laying there in his arms felt wonderful. After some time Erik spoke,

"Darling…,"

"Yes, I know, it's time to move," I said grudgingly,

"I'm getting in the shower," Erik informed me,

"Can you throw me my robe?"

Erik did so and I dove under the covers.

"What are you doing Olivia?" He was perplexed,

"It's cold out there!" came my muffled response. Erik shook his head and went into the bathroom. I managed to put on the robe under the covers and then pop out again, gasping for breath. I looked at the door to the bathroom and made sure it was fully closed. Then I looked down at the ring on my finger; so he had been planning to ask me all along…I had been worried for nothing.

Like a child who just received the ultimate Christmas gift, I did a strange, mildly foolish happy dance in the bed; watching as the ring sparkled. Then I reached for my cell phone. I called Andy…and I called Rebecca…and I called Susan…and I called Jackie…

Erik was in the bathroom, reflecting on the events of the last time someone had tried to take a shower in here. What a silly girl, he thought for the hundredth time, to think that he would not want to marry me. And what a wonderful girl, he thought again, to care enough to ask him.

But then there was still a but. He had still not told me the truth. He had scraped the surface, but there was still much _much_ more. Erik was still torn. He knew he owed me the truth, but was is better to just let this truth die? Why couldn't he allow our relationship to take the happy course it was now set for? But could he really spend a lifetime with me without telling me? He did not know.

"You know," he muttered to his reflection, "I am supposed to be a kind of genius, but I can't figure this out!"

Erik leaned over and turned on the water; plugging the drain and letting the tub fill. He had to bathe this way due to his casts. Over the running water Erik could hear me talking on the phone…

"…Of course you are going to be a bridesmaid!...no I won't make you wear an ugly dress…"

He smiled, happy I was so happy. Erik continued to watch the water. It occurred to him suddenly that he had no one to call and tell that he was getting married. It didn't really matter to him, he thought. He had everything he wanted. He supposed that if there was anyone he would really want to tell, it would be the Persian.

Erik smiled a little as he thought of him. He had always seen something good in Erik. He had seen a part of his soul which had not been overcome by darkness or sorrow or madness. He had seen a part of him worth saving. Erik would have liked to tell him that he was right.

And there was one more person he would have liked to tell. He looked at himself in the mirror and smirked as he thought; Christine. Erik stared at his perfect handsome face and thought of his perfect job and perfect fiancé and he had to admit; he would have loved to see the look on her face if…

And at that moment….124…almost 125…years in the past…

Christine sat looking out the window. She was not listening at all to the conversation going on between Raoul's two sisters as they sat in the opulent drawing room. The two girls seemed to notice too, as they momentarily stopped their chatter and looked at the newest addition to their family.

They shook their heads slightly at her glazed over expression as she looked out the large window. The two elegant ladies looked at each other and sighed; this girl, though beautiful, would never belong. They continued their conversation, not making an attempt to engage the dreamy girl.

Christine was miles away from the rich room with its comfortable stuffed chairs and warm fire. She had not even noticed that the tea in her cup which rested on her lap had gone cold. Her mind was busy with the return of her husband. He was supposed to have come home the night before, but the snow delayed him.

She sighed. She had to admit that married life was not what she had expected. It seemed more like a lot of waiting around. Thinking back to her life just a year before, it seemed like so much more excitement. She had been a dancer and a diva! She had been evolved in scandal and the fight for true love! Now all she was doing was sitting around in fancy dresses and drinking tea. The other way seemed better to her.

Raoul's sisters were a complete bore to her. They spoke of the odd little scandals which occurred in the highest circles of Paris society, but compared to the talk she used to hear from the ballerinas everything was quite tame. Half the time they spoke in English, which she was being forced to learn even though she found her progress quite slow.

For a girl who was used to speaking to disembodied voices and following dark figures into the mysterious depths of an opera house and having to steal moments with her secret fiancé; she was _very_ board.

And 124…almost 125 years later…

Erik came out of the bathroom to find I was still on the phone. I was sitting in my robe, my legs crossed at my ankles. I had called Andy back and we were talking about her own wedding when we had all gotten drunk and sung Hey Jude…

"I hope we do that at your wedding," Andy was saying to me as Erik sat down on the bed,

"We better…remember Lily's wedding? We didn't sing and it was no fun at all…" Erik's ears perked up. Singing always interested him and he knew it interested me as well, just in a different way. When he had pursued music, it had been his all consuming passion. When I thought of music, it was just an exuberant expression. I didn't care about tone or pitch, I just wanted to laugh.

Erik finished pulling on his clothes and crawled up next to me on the bed. He slid his arm around my back and let his hand rest on my stomach. I smiled and laughed a little but continued to talk on the phone. Then Erik began to nip at my ear and I felt his hand tug at the tie on my robe.

"I have to go Andy," I told her suddenly, knowing she would understand, "I'll call you back," I snapped my cell shut, "You never give up do you?" I smiled, kissing my fiancé.


	22. Family Matters

Family Matters

The day finally came; Christmas. We nearly slept through it however because no sun came with the morning. Erik woke first; there was a sound that was imitating some beast ripping through the very foundations of the hotel. It only took Erik a moment to realize it was the wind. As he looked out the window, all he saw was a blur of white.

"Olivia," He nudged me slightly,

"Mmm?" I never wanted to wake up in the morning; I just wanted to lay there next to him,

"It's snowing,"

"It's Rochester! Of course it's snowing," I grumbled, forcing myself to raise my head and look out the window, "Oh wow…" It was really coming down, "I hate to say it but we should get moving before this gets much worse,"

Erik agreed. We both set ourselves in motion; quickly dressing and gathering together the presents we were brining to my mother's house. I turned on the television set and found the weather channel; apparently this storm was going to last all day and only get worse as the night came.

When we stepped outside it was as though we had entered the Alaskan tundra. By the time I reached the car I was shivering,

"I miss the city!" I cried; a place that got snow, but not that much snow,

"I know, so do I," Erik said, and he felt incredibly tense. The weather conditions were making it difficult to drive and Erik was reminded that the last time this had happened, he had ended up in a hospital.

This time he was luckier. We made it to my mother and father's house without accident, although I had not gone over forty miles an hour the whole way there. Judging by the cars already there, we were one of the last ones to arrive.

As we walked to the door, Erik felt a fresh set of nerves wash over him. What with meeting Andy and then getting engaged, he had not had much time to worry about meeting the rest of the family.

Now the moment was upon him; I would open the door and then he would be faced with all my relatives. Erik took a deep breath. I suddenly noticed how nervous he was; I squeezed his hand and smiled,

"You're going to be fine darling," I opened the door. Immediately I heard Andy squeal,

"Olivia!" She rushed over to me, embracing me tightly, "I didn't tell anyone else about the engagement, except Leo, so that can be your surprise," She whispered to me. I had only told Andy, Rebecca, Susan, and Jackie that I was engaged. I wanted to announce it to my family all at once. I had spun the ring around so that no one would notice until I wanted them to.

"Andy," I beamed at her, but soon there were others swooping around. My mother shrieked and came at me, practically shoving Andy aside to get her turn. Erik watched as this happened, awkwardly closing the door and wondering what he was supposed to do.

"Let me look at you," My mother, Elaine, cupped my face in both hands and looked at me, "You cut your hair again," he said with a sigh,

"It's been short for years mom," I told her,

"I know, but I always liked it long better," she said with a sigh,

I rolled my eyes and shrugged. I shifted me gaze to the man standing behind my mother, "Daddy!" I embraced the big man tightly. My father, Daniel, was a big man with an even bigger heart.

"I think your hair looks great Liv," He said to me, "But I think we are being rude," he let go of me and walked over to Erik, extending a hand, "Daniel Moss," he said,

Erik took his hand, "Erik Duval," He hoped he kept the nervous awkward tone out of his voice,

"Well it's good to _finally_ meet you!" My mother turned to him, "I swear, little Liv never brings men home…come in come in…"

Wincing at the fact my mother still called me "little Liv" even though I was in my thirties, we were herded into the living room. We put the bags which contained the presents under the tree.

Erik stared around the room. There were quite a few people in there; My parents, Andy and Leo, and then the rest he did not know, but all of them were coming at him and me.

"Oh my God I haven't seen any of you in so long!" I said as my relatives dutifully flocked over for the meet and greet, "Erik, this is my cousin Justin, and this is his wife Lisa..."

"Hello…" Erik shook hands with the first of them,

"And this is my other cousin Krista…

"Good to meet you…

"And her husband Nigel…

There were several other people he was introduced to and he was sure they would not remember him and he would not remember them…at least not yet. Unfortunately I was pulled away by my mother to look at her new curtains and Erik was left alone. People finally dispersed around him and he thought he was safe, but then he felt another tap on the shoulder,

"Can you talk to one more person?" Erik laughed; Leo had come up behind him,

"Good to see you again," Erik said, and he really meant it. Among all the new and unfamiliar he looked at Leo as a kind of ally even though he had only met him once before.

"They have quite a big family," Leo said, meaning me and Andy, "But they rarely get together like this,"

Erik glanced around the room. Most people were talking, glancing briefly at him and Leo, and then continuing to speak, "Is it me or are they all talking about us?" Erik questioned in French,

"They are," Leo spoke in french as well, "We are the mysterious foreigners," he laughed, "The French connection,"

"How'd you get that cast?" Erik looked down to see a young boy staring up at him,

"I was in a car accident," Erik said, eyeing the child. He looked to be about twelve and he had brown blond hair. It also appeared he was wearing a rather hideous looking Christmas sweater.

"Were you being chased by anyone?" he asked eagerly,

"Harry shut _up_!" An older girl had come over. She had short, blond hair and glasses. Tied around her waist was what appeared to be a sweater that matched the boys, "That only happens on TV,"

"No! Jake told me that…" the boy began in angry protest,

"_Jake_ is an idiot," The girl cut him off,

"She's right, I was not being chased by anyone," Erik said, he would have liked to get away from the conversation but he and Leo were standing in a corner and there really was no avoiding it,

"You see Harry," the girl said, and then she turned to Erik, "I try to…" an odd look came over her face as she looked at Erik. He did not know what it was,

"Are you feeling alright Mademoiselle?" He asked confused. Normally he would have said "Miss" but speaking to Leo in French had put him in that mind set,

"Oh yeah," she shook her head, "I was just saying…" but she had forgotten what she had just been saying, "So are you French too?" she asked Erik, blinking several times very rapidly,

"Yes," Erik said slowly, wondering what was in this girl's head,

"I love French, and France," she said enthusiastically,

"Oh do you speak French?" Erik asked her, and he also scanned the room behind her for any sign of me,

"No," the girl admitted, "But I'd really like to learn…"

"Eww! Are you _flirting_?" the boy, Harry, laughed at his sister,

"Argh!" the girl turned bright red and rounded on her brother. Still laughing the boy tore out of the room, his angry sister hot on his heals,

"That was odd," Erik spoke to Leo again in French,

Leo nodded, "Lily's kids," he explained, "Harry and Andrea I believe is her name…and they always do act a bit odd," Leo shrugged,

I returned to them at that moment, Andy coming with me, "I am so sorry," I said, handing Erik a glass of chardonnay and sipping my own, "My mother ambushed me…and then there was this thing with fruit cake and…" I shook my head,

Erik laughed at me, "It's alright darling,"

"Aww I miss that part of the relationship where you are still basking in the sun of proposal and you call each other darling," Andy said enviously, but clearly not seriously,

"I still call you darling, darling," Leo said, sounding just as carefree,

"So when are you two going to announce to everyone else that you are," Andy looked around to make sure no one was listening, "engaged," she whispered,

"Dinner I think," I looked at Erik, "Do you agree?"

"Whatever you say darling," Erik took a drink from his glass,

"This is why I love you," I said, and my voice must have been slightly dreamy because Leo said,

"In the immortal words of Harry; Eww," Erik laughed but Andy and I were just confused,

"Harry Lily's boy?" Andy asked,

"That's the one; he came over and asked Erik about his cast," Leo said,

"Oh…" I looked at Erik, "I should have warned you he is a little odd,"

Erik laughed, "It was alright…he wanted to know if I was being chased when I got in the car accident,"

"Yes and then his sister…" Leo paused to drain his drink, "I think she was rather taken with Erik…"

Erik's attempts to deny this were drown out by our own laughter, "Well Lily will be thrilled," I said at last, "She is always worrying that Andrea does not act girlish enough," at that moment the two children ran past up shrieking about something,

"This is why we don't have kids," Andy said in a low voice, which caused us all to snort in the drinks we had buried our noses in, which was really quite childish.

I had thought that maybe since we were unusual guests in the house Andy and I would be exempt from the cooking, but I was wrong. Lily sought us out just after we had sat down,

"Girls," she addressed us,

"Oh Lily! Have you met Erik?" I motioned to him and he began to stand and extend a hand to her but she quickly nodded and spoke,

'We spoke on the phone," she turned her attention away from Erik, "Mother and I need help in the kitchen, and as you two haven't done anything…"

"Alright alright," Andy sighed, "We're coming,"

We ended up having to frost cookies, something we had not done in years. Erik and Leo had followed us into the kitchen and they sat down at the bar stools across from the counter where we were frosting. Standing there in the kitchen, it felt like I was a teenager all over again.

My mother turned around and watched Andy and I,

"Oh it's just like when you girls used to live here!" She squealed, "I miss you girls," Lily watched with cold eyes as my mother came and hugged us both.

Not surprisingly seeing as how we had consumed quite a bit of wine, our frosting activity turned into us eating frosting and then throwing the remnants at each others faces.

"Stop it! That's homemade frosting!" Lily shouted, "I spent a long time making the color just right!"

I laughed, "You could have just bought it,"

"Some people don't do things the easy way," I glared at her; I tried to make partner and she tried to make frosting and I was the lazy one.

"Oh it is just like old times," Our mother said, then she turned to Erik, "These girls have been at each others throats since they were little," she laughed, "Andy and Olivia were always the big dreamers; remember when you two though you would be on Broadway?"

"Oh God!" Andy managed to speak, but I simply dissolved into a fit of laughter, "It was after we were in that production of Chicago,"

"Remember when…" I was still laughing so hard, "Opening night…and your skirt fell off…" Andy started to laugh so hard she could barely breathe, "and you just…kicked it off the stage!"

Andy had to sit down to catch her breath, "I haven't thought about that in years!"

"I still have it on tape," My mother offered,

"Oh we absolutely have to watch it!" Leo moved to his wife's side, "Why didn't you ever mention this?"

"Because we were _ridiculous_!" Andy said,

"No, we can't watch it," I said adamantly, "it's too embarrassing,"

"I'd like to see it Olivia," Erik informed me smiling,

"Oh God," I muttered, but it was too late to stop the hurried procession of people into our living room. My mother was yelling at everyone to gather round; we were going to watch tapes of the girls.

I had exactly five minutes of my dignity left before my mom found the old tape. Andy and I protested but we both knew it was useless. Erik had seated himself in one of the large easy chairs and I resigned myself to sit down on the chair next to him, ready to bury my head in his shoulder as soon as the tape was on.

The next ten minutes were filled with the laughter of our family as they watched the younger versions of me and Andy singing and dancing in the finale of the show. I admit, I watched to. I was amazed at how young and carefree we both looked.

I remembered every detail of the show; it had been a wonderful event. Andy had always been in plays and musicals and I was usually in the pit. However, Andy convinced me to try out. She had the role of Velma Kelly, and I was Roxy Heart. It had been amazing; both of us, the stars of the show.

I laughed as I watched us in the old, slightly cheesy, high school production. Erik watched me with pride. He couldn't believe that once again, he found himself in love with a former performer. But as he watched the teenage figures of me and Andy dance across the stage, he noticed something that had nothing to do with our short, sparkling costumes or our wide smiles. He noticed something he could relate to much more.

Away from the crowd which had gathered to help in our humiliation, Lily stood in the doorframe of the kitchen where we had abandoned the food. Her eyes was dark, and Erik thought also quite sad. He assumed Lily had never been in the spotlight. Erik craned his head to see that the man who was married to Lily, James, was watching the tape along with everyone else and paying no mind to his wife's emotions.

As the one who was always standing in the shadows on the edge of the stage, never to share in the spotlight, he knew what it was to watch someone close to you win all the attention while no praise ever came your way. He could identify with that. So maybe he was not so different than everyone else.

We watched the full finale of the show, and then the following applause,

"Ok watch me right here," I said, I was enjoying this more than I thought I would, and I squeezed Erik's hand, "See, right there when we all turned around a little?"

"Yeah…" he said, a small smile on his face,

"There was a huge crash because Jim Whitbourne when backstage and cut the lights to scare everyone," I explained laughing, "He ran through with shaving cream right?" I looked at Andy for conformation,

"Yeah, he was a real hellion," Andy smiled, remembering,

"And your first _love_," I put on a ridiculous voice and batted my eyelashes at Andy,

"What's all this?" Leo asked interested,

"And there was a huge drama with this play and Andy…and Jim," Suddenly I remembered the whole twisted story and realized I had a captive audience; Leo, Erik, my mother and father, and everyone else but Lily were all staring at me,

"Alright, so Jim was the star of the football team…"

"Liv, do you have to tell this story now?" Andy blushed,

"Yes," I said quickly, "But he wanted to impress Andy so he tried out for the play; the part of Billy Flynn…and he was really good! But that prick William Roberts get it instead, because his father gave the school a "generous contribution,"

Erik considered the story; man wants to impress and win woman; man's place gets stolen by rich dolt…it all sounded very familiar…which lead him to believe that no, he was not so very different from everyone else; except for the fact that he was born in the 1800s…minor detail…

"So to catch her attention, he pulled this prank…" I continued, "And it totally worked, Andy was smitten," I grinned at her,

"I was not…_smitten_," Andy protested, her face turning bright red as she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, "I think dinner is read…it dinner ready?" she quickly made for the kitchen, Leo following her,

"Honey? So do you still talk to this Jim fellow?"

I laughed hard for another minute as I rose and stopped the tape as the crowd dispersed. I hit eject and turned to face Erik again, "So what did you think?"

"You were absolutely spectacular…a true diva," He said, motioning for me to come and sit on his good leg again,

"Where you ever in a high school production?" I asked him,

"No honey, I never went to high school, I am from the 1800 and I terrorized an opera house," he said in his mind; but he said to me, "Never in high school…I was in a show once though,"

"What was it?" I asked interested,

"You wouldn't have heard of it," He said slyly,

"Was it any good?" I asked,

"Well…it brought the house down," he said, choosing his words carefully,

"Did anyone catch it on tape?"

"I doubt it," Erik said with a smile, adding to himself, as they hadn't invented a video camera yet, "But I think it was in the papers,"

"It's fun though isn't it? Where there a lot of back stage antics going on during the show?"

"More than you know," Erik said mysteriously,

I looked at his quizzically for a moment, "You are very strange sometimes,"

"Yes and that's why you love me," Erik said quickly, and he took my hand and touched the ring on my finger,

"Of course it is," I leaned in and kissed him swiftly on his lips, which left me wishing for the hundredth time we had spent Christmas alone in New York,

"Dinners ready!" Our moment was cut short


	23. To Relatives With Love

To Relatives With Love

My whole family gathered around our dinning room table. Even with all the leaves in it there was not enough room for everyone; the adults were at one table and the young adults where at another. Harry and Andrea along with some of my other cousin's children were at yet another table. Madness.

Erik was feeling out of place again. He had never been around so many people for so long before. True, there was nothing he needed to feel self conscious about; his face was no longer an issue. However, years of acting a certain way had left an imprint.

Still, he forced his nerves down and tried to ignore the need to run away and put on a smiling face. He held my hand and I led him to the dinning room. I was sitting just to the left of my dad, who was at the head of the table.

Erik sat next to me, and Leo next to him, and Andy next to him. My mother sat across from me, and Lily next to her and James next to her. However, Lily was not in her seat. She was busy taking food from the kitchen to the dinning room.

"Lily! Sit down…" My father called to her, "Your mother wants to say a prayer…"

My big fat Catholic mother had adopted this custom from my grandmother. She used to always say a prayer before dinner. However, that night it actually served my purposes. After everyone had quieted down my mother began to speak…and when she was done; I planned on making my announcement.

As my mother spoke, I glanced at Erik; he was staring intently at the mashed potatoes my sister had placed on the table. I smiled; the look on his face resembled the look on mine just before a store opened.

I reached out my hand and placed it over his under the table. I smiled slightly at him, giving him a meaningful look. He nodded; so this would be the moment when it would be announced, he thought. He took a deep breath. It was real; it was all real. He could still hardly believe his luck. _Engaged_…

My mother finished, I didn't even notice Lily had opened her mouth before I started talking,

"Um…before we all start talking again…" I began, everyone turned to look at me, "I have an announcement to make,"

"Oh my God…" My mother looked at me with wide shinning eyes and put her hand over her mouth,

I smiled and grabbed Erik's hand tighter. My eye began to tear up again as I spoke, "Erik and I are going to be married…"

There was a thunderous explosion in the house the likes of which had not been seen since Andy's eleventh grade chemistry experiment. Erik thought the commotion rivaled what had been caused the night of Don Juan.

My mother shirked and ran to my side. She threw her arms around, "My baby's getting married!"

She wasn't the only one. My whole family swooped in. Erik felt like he was caught in a whirl pool; people were hugging him, shaking his hand and congratulating him. He was so overcome he could hardly stammer out a thank you.

My mother grabbed my hand and I twisted the ring so she could see. There was a general intake of breath as the light caught the ring and Erik felt someone clap him on the shoulder.

We were hit with a barrage of questions;

"When is the wedding?"

"Where is it?"

"How did you get engaged? _When_ did you get engaged!"

Erik and I had been forced to stand when we had been hit with the fallout of our announcement. I wrapped my arms around Erik's middle and rested my head against his shoulder.

"He only just asked me, we haven't really thought about all that yet," I was beaming ridiculously,

"Oh!" my mother was crying, "I know we don't know you very well Erik, but welcome to the family," she hugged us both again.

Welcome to the family, Erik thought. He looked around at all the smiling people who were staring at us; at him. For once, he knew that it had nothing to do with his face; these people where happy. They were welcoming him into their arms. _This_ was his family. He searched the sea of faces; he did not know anyone really except for Andy and Leo but still, this was his family.

However he noticed one person was not smiling. Lily. True enough; on her face her lips were drawn back in a would be expression of happiness, but Erik knew it was false. He stared directly at her and she averted her eyes. With out a word she turned and retreated out to the kitchen.

Erik sighed. He knew what she was feeling; like an outcast in her own family. A feeling he was all to familiar with. However, he did not have much time to think about it. His new family would not let him.

Sitting down we faced the line of questions all over again,

"So when do you two plan on getting married?" My father asked me as he turned his nose up at some vegetable casserole Lily had made and passed the dish to me,

"I told you; we haven't really thought about all that yet," I took the casserole and passed it without taking any,

"Well think about it now," My mother said, her eyes were still filled with tears,

"Yes, Liv, Plan your whole wedding right now," Andy said sarcastically, she took the casserole and passed it,

"Have you thought about who you are going to have as bridesmaids?" One of my cousins asked me,"

At that moment Lily came back from the kitchen, just as her casserole reached the end of the table; untouched.

"Why don't you just use the same plan as the last time," Lily said, "Of course this time leave your fiancé leaving you out of it,"

My eyes stung. I couldn't believe Lily would say something so hurtful,

"Lily…" My mother said in a warning tone,

"What?" she said coldly, "Or am I the only one who remembers that Olivia has already been engaged once,"

I could handle a lot. I could take my boss yelling at me, and my old professor's criticism, I was a New Yorker for God's sake! But being reminded that a man I had loved had broken my heart once and ruined me right before I was going to do it all over again was too much. My eyes became bright but I still had my dignity. I refused to let the water slip from my eyes.

I stared at my sister. I did not blink or look away but I couldn't find my voice either. Erik watched as we glared at each other. He understood Lily; he knew that people lashed out against the ones they loved. But he was still angry with her; anyone who upset me was no friend of his.

"Lily, I think I smell something in the kitchen, let's go check on it," Lily's husband grumbled, standing and taking his wife by the arm and ushering her out into the kitchen. It was obvious that there was nothing in the kitchen that James smelled, but I was grateful that the man had done something useful at last.

Erik put his hand on my leg and squeezed reassuringly; I wished for a moment that my whole family could just disappear and I could be alone with him.

"What do you think about having the wedding this summer Olivia?" Erik asked me, desperately trying to restore the happy mood of several minutes before, "I would like to wait until my casts are off,"

"Yes," I said, and I winced as my voice broke slightly, "Yes, we can't get married while you still have those things on," I tried to force a laugh as I knew everyone was still watching me and waiting for the moment when I would break into a sobbing mess. I wanted to prove that I was alright.

"Oh I don't know," Leo said lightly, "White dress, white cast…"

The tension slowly subsided and the general chatter arose again. Talk of weddings, and other things, made me almost forget what Lily had said. There was a brief relapse of awkwardness as Lily and James returned to the table. However, like good guests, everyone pretended nothing had happened.

Other than the Lily's outburst, the dinner was enjoyable. Mostly we talked about marriage, and not just mine and Erik's, everyone had a story to share. Erik only half listened as my family chatted; he was thinking about our marriage to.

It was something he had always wanted; to be married, to be like everyone else. And now he was. It was all so new and different to him. His last proposal; his last love, had been a disaster. He had just wanted Christine to feel the same way about him as he felt about her. He had imagined them living happily ever after and he had thought it was possible to attain this dream.

But it wasn't, because Erik had learned that you can't make someone love you. That night, after it was all over and he had watched Christine leave, he had believed his heart was broken for good. There was nothing left to do; he didn't know love and he never would. No one would ever want to be with him. And then, something wonderful happened.

Erik had thanked New York City every night since he had met me. And now he was engaged. He had finally come out of the darkness. This time, there were no threats, no regrets, no question that his fiancé loved him. I loved him and he knew it.

This time there was no forced engagement; no forced marriage. Erik watched as I happily voiced my opinions about what I thought I would like for our wedding. I turned to him and asked him something. He agreed with whatever it was I said; he didn't care what I planned, it meant the world to him that I _wanted_ to plan it.

He was staring at the ring on my finger and watched it flash as the candle light from the table caught it. I belonged to him, and he hadn't taken me or coerced me in any way. In fact, I had asked him to be mine forever.

It was too good to be true, but it was. It was announced, and all these people were welcoming him into the family. They were all happy; as people should be when there is going to be a marriage. Everything about this was different that when Erik had last tried to be a human being.

Erik came back to the conversation,

"I don't care, I liked it," Andy was saying,

"I know you did; but I have to have a white dress," I responded, I put my hand on Erik's knee, "Andy wore a blue dress at her wedding," Erik nodded, but again he was distracted. Though everyone else was chatting happily, Lily was not. She was playing with her food with downcast eyes. Erik sighed. It was a shame that in every family someone felt like they did not belong.

Dinner was over and people had begun to disperse. Left at the table were myself, Erik, Leo, Andy, my mother and father, and several other of my cousins.

"Erik, this ring is absolutely stunning," Andy was saying, she had taken me by the hand to get a closer look, "Where did you get it?"

"Tiffany's," he said, hoping he didn't sound to pompous as Lily had just returned to the room and was clearing away some of the remaining plates, "I picked it out months ago,"

"What were you waiting to ask her for then Erik?" Leo laughed, "Or did you want her to ask you?"

We all laughed; I hoped no one noticed that Erik and I exchanged a nervous look.

"So…now we are going to have two Frenchmen in the family; am I correct?" My father asked,

"Yes, sir, that is true," Erik responded,

My father laughed and waved a hand, "You don't have to call me 'sir' son, call me Dan; everyone else does; don't they Leo?"

"Yes sir," Leo said, raising his glass in my father's direction.

"Now, you are going to be staying in New York, aren't you? Your not taking our daughter off to Paris are you?" My mother asked Erik,

"Oh no, I would never want to leave New York," Erik spoke truthfully. Even though he had hardly spent a year in the city he felt like it was his only home.

"Are you another artist Erik?" My father asked him,

"Architect," Erik corrected,

"And singer, and organist," I added, "He has a lovely voice,"

"Oh? Why don't you sing for us!" My mother looked excitedly at him,

"Here is what I have to explain," I said turning to Erik, "My mother _loves_ to sing, she is the one who got us all started when we were younger,"

"Maybe you would like to sing then?" Erik asked her,

"No!" Andy and I said at the same time,

"Once you get her started she _never_ _stops_," I said, my eyes wide in fake alarm,

"I won't _sing_," My mother appeased us, "But someone should," she had had a lot of wine and she was in a silly mood,

"What do you say you and I entertain, Erik?" Leo, who had also had his fair share of drinks, "something French eh?"

Erik raised his eyebrows in a nonchalant expression, but inside his stomach was twisting. The last thing he needed now was for Leo to name some famous French song that he had never heard of, having been born 124 years too early. He did not need to be caught in his lie now, not when he was so close to happiness.

"Erik, do you play the piano?" My mother asked, "We have one in the living room…"

"Mom, leave him alone for God's sake," I sighed, "he's only got one good arm!"

"Come on Erik," Leo grabbed him by the shoulder, "Come on…"

Before Erik could say anything, he was following Leo into the living room. As we walked I grabbed Erik's hand and squeezed it. Thinking that in several moments he might be revealed, Erik took advantage of the precious moment and brought my hand to his lips.

Nervously Erik approached the piano. Leo noted nothing strange about Erik's mood as they sat at the piano bench. Leo thought for a moment. Then he laughed and muttered something in French to Erik.

Relief swept over him. Les Anges dans nos campagnes, or as it was known in English angles we have heard on high, was a song he knew. He remembered hearing it as a child; he remembered it being sung at parties he was not invited to. But he knew the words, and he knew the tune.

"Let me see," Erik rested his one hand on the piano keys, "It wont be very good…" with one hand he played the tune. True, it wasn't fast or as rich as he normally would have played, but it sounded good to me. And I recognized the tune, as did everyone else who was standing in the room.

"Alright on three," Erik said to Leo, laughing as his hand ran across the keys and thanking his luck for holding out again, "One, two, three,"

"Les anges dans nos campagnes, Ont entonné l'hymne des cieux, Et l'écho de nos montagnes, Redit ce chant mélodieux, _Gloria in excelsis Déo!" _

Erik's voice was undoubted the better or the two, however this was not two people trying to sing perfectly, it was two slightly inebriated people at a Christmas party. Thus, there was laughter in the sung words.

"Bergers, pour qui cette fete," they began the second verse, and then there was a pause as they both looked at each other laughing and shaking their heads, forgetting the next word, before Erik remembered,

"Quel"

And then they both sang together, "est l'object de tous ces chants? Quel vainqueur, Quelle conquete merite ces cris triomphant? Gloria in excelsis Deo! Gloria in excelsis Deo!"

Though he wasn't trying, Erik's voice still cast a spell on everyone who had stopped to listen. It didn't help any that he was singing in the beautiful French language. It seemed almost magical to me. I sat there and all other noise and thought fell away and I just concentrated on his voice. I was drifting off as they sang when a loud cry and I thud snapped me back to the here and now.

Erik stopped playing the piano and looked up. Everyone else's heads turned to see what the hell had happened. It seemed that Erik's voice had a major effect on everyone; including Lily's daughter Andrea. Apparently, she had been listening to his voice and not paying attention to what she was doing.

Wanting to inch closer to him, Andrea had stepped forward, caught her foot on a light cord running from the tree, become tangled, wavered for a moment, before falling backward into the immaculately decorated tree, affectively knocking it over. Bulbs crashed to the ground and broke and all the white lights flickered and then went dark.

Everyone stared opened mouthed as she lay on her back, struggling as she tried to free herself from the tree. We were all so stunned no one moved to help her. Harry was the first to act; he began to laugh. We all soon followed his example; it was quite funny.

Leo moved to her and extended a hand, pulling the poor girl out of the tree, "Are you alright?" he asked her kindly,

"Yes, I'm fine," she muttered, and when we all saw her embarrassment we stopped laughing,

"It's alright," I assured her, standing up and motioning for her to come and sit down, "It didn't hurt anything,"

Erik stood, even though his leg made this painful, and helped Leo right the tree. It had come out of the stand and splashed water on some of the surrounding presents. Leo moved them away and inspected the stand while Erik held the tree up.

Other members of my family began to move in; some moved the presents away further from the tree and examined them, rescuing them before the water did too much damage. Others swarmed around Andrea, regaling her with their own mortification stories to try and cheer her up.

"Do you need any help darling?" I asked as I went over and stood next to Erik,

"No, I'm fine," he spoke though I knew it must not have been easy to hold up that tree,

"WHAT HAPPENED?" a loud voice made everyone turn; Lily had come into the room and taken one look at the mess the tree had made; the wet presents and the broken glass, before she became livid,

"It was nothing Lily," Andy said calmly, "Just an accident,"

"Who did this?" she shrieked, "Look at this mess! Oh my God…" She looked down at some of the glass bulbs which had broken and picked up a blue piece, "This was _grandma's_ bulb! It was an antique! An heirloom! It's irreplaceable!"

Behind me Andrea shifted uncomfortably in the face of her mother's wrath,

"Who did this!" Lily demanded again,

No one said a word and she rounded on Andrea, "You…" she said slowly, knowing her daughters slight lack of grace,

"I did it,"

We all stared because everyone knew Erik was not responsible, even though he had said he was,

"I tripped, because of my leg," he indicated his cast, "I'm very sorry," He couldn't help it; in Lily he saw a hint of himself and of his mother; disappointed in her child. He remembered as a child wishing someone would protect him from his mother's ridicule. And what did it matter to him if Lily was angry with him?

"I spent hours making that tree look _perfect_," Lily said, fighting to control her anger, "I-I…" she sputtered, then looked distressed at the surrounding mess. "I have to…" she shook her head and left the room. James sighed and followed her.

"Thank you," Andrea said in a quiet voice as she passed Erik, then retreated to some other part of the house.

"Ready Erik?" Leo said in a low voice, "Lift…" With my help and Leo's guidance we put the tree back in the stand. Leo tightened the screws and made sure the tree was secure before Erik and I let go.

"The lights can probably be fixed…" Erik said, wishing to ignore all the stares of people who were wondering why he had taking the fall for knocking over the Christmas tree. Truly he was fascinated by electricity, and very interested to see if he could fix them. On further inspection he realized this was unnecessary,

"Oh…they just came unplugged…" Erik could not reach the plug with his leg in a cast, so one of my aunts quickly bent down and pushed the plug back into the socket.

"I'll go and get the dustpan," My mother hurried out to the kitchen, returning moments later with a pan and broom and begun to sweep up the broken glass,

"Some of it may be salvageable," My mother said as she eyes the broken pieces, "It could be glued back together…I don't know why Lily made such a fuss,"

Erik moved away from the tree and I wrapped my arms around him, telling him he had done a good thing without having to actually tell him. Again conversation eventually resumed and Erik went back to the piano. Even though it was hard to play with only one hand and the tunes did not sound as good as he would have like, he missed playing. And he was in an environment which was as good as heaven to him.

I sat beside him on the piano bench; half of my family was gathered around. What Erik and Leo had started had now turned into a group affair. We would start a Christmas carol, and when we had sung all the words we knew, someone else would yell out another title and it would start all over again. Erik was enjoying himself more than he had ever thought possible.

I was enjoying myself as well, but there was still something that was tugging at the back of my mind and cramping my good time.

Lily had planted a little weed of doubt and anxiety in my head. It had twisted through every part of my subconscious and now threatened to crack my mind. I had been through all this before; I had been in love and engaged and it had ruined me. I couldn't have that happen again. I didn't think I could handle it. I had to talk to Erik.

As the song and entertainment portion of the night ended, I turned to him, "Do you want to see my old room?" I asked,

"I'd love to,"

I took his hand and led him out of the living room, thorough the kitchen and up the stairs, "Here we are," I said as we reached the second door on the left. I pulled it open and switched on the lights.

It was a simple room; I had shared it with Andy for a few years when we were younger, and then again when she had been in college and her room had been turned into storage. There were still two beds in it and the walls were still the light blue color they had been when we were younger.

"Nice," Erik said simply as he stepped inside looked around. I shut the door and he turned to face me, his eyebrows raised,

"Olivia…?" he looked questioningly at me and I could not blame him. I had led him up to my room and shut the door…

"I have to talk to you Erik,"

The wry smile left his face immediately and was replaced by concern, "What is wrong?" he was confused; had he done something wrong? He silently cursed himself for thinking this was all going well.

"It's…" I began slowly, "Well, sit down," I motioned to the bed and Erik quickly seated himself on the edge of my old bed, looking up at me concerned, "It's about what Lily said," I began,

"About the bulb?" Erik asked, and even though I was upset he still made me laugh,

"No, not the bulb Erik," I shook my head and I suddenly realized my eyes were wet again. Knowing he could make me laugh even when I was distress made everything worse, "It was about what she said about…my first engagement," I stopped,

"What about it Olivia?" He asked gently,

"I…I'm afraid," I admitted,

"Of what?" Erik's voice was hardly above a whisper as he gently coxed me to speak,

"Of what happened last time…" A tear fell from my eye as I remembered. I had gone to Mark's apartment and found it empty and his things gone. He had called me later that day. I still remembered, "The wedding is off…I don't love you," and then he had hung up.

"I can't…" I shook my head and looked into his eyes, "Erik if you ever left me…" I felt my whole body shake as I remembered the feeling of complete emptiness that had come with the going of my last fiancé and I knew it would be a thousand times worse if Erik ever left me. When Mark had left it had felt like my soul had been ripped away. I knew if Erik did the same thing I would have nothing left to live off of.

I buried my head in my hands and shook uncontrollably. I tried to take a breath and calm myself, but it was no use. I did not even notice it at first, but suddenly I was not shaking so badly and I felt warmer. I realized that a pair of arms had wrapped themselves around me; holding me so tightly I trembled less. I cried into his chest as he stroked my hair, trying desperately to make me stop crying.

"I would never Olivia," he murmured, "Never leave you," It had not even occurred to him that I would worry that he might leave. His life had been spent begging people to stay with him just a moment longer. Finally someone wanted to be with him, and he would never give that up. "I love you too much," he lightly kissed the top of my head.

"I-I trust you," I stammered, "I know you are a good man and you wouldn't just leave me…but it scares me,"

Erik's blood suddenly ran cold. I trusted him. I shouldn't, he thought. Not when he was keeping the secret of the century from me. But I had nothing to fear as far him leaving…he would stay as long as I wanted him.

"I swear to you Olivia, you are stuck with me for the rest of your life," He desperately wanted to see me smile and he got his wish as I looked up at him and laughed through my tears,

I took a deep, steadying breath and circled my arms around Erik's neck, "I just can't wait until we are married," I nestled my head against his chest.

"We don't have to wait," Erik said, his hand rested gently on the back of my head while his other arm was wrapped around me, "We can get married the moment we get back in the city,"

I thought about it for a moment but the idea of a city hall wedding was enough to make me want to wait.

Erik laughed before I answered, "Don't worry; I would not deny you the big white dress and the big party," he moved his hand from behind my head and lifted my chin with his thumb and forefinger so my eyes looked directly into his, "And I would not deny you the groom either,"

I nodded and offered him a small smile before I buried my face in his chest again. For a long time he just held me and we stood in silence. Then a thought popped into my head,

"Erik,"

"Yes my love?"

"What you did for Andrea, that was _very_ kind of you,"

Erik sighed, "I didn't think it was worth it for her mother to be angry with her," I nodded. In my head, I thought Erik would be a wonderful father.

Eventually we left my room. The present portion of the night begun and we all ooed and ahhed as people opened their gifts. Erik and I decided that we would exchange most of our gifts when we returned to New York, but we did give each other some things.

From Erik I received gorgeous diamond earrings and a dress I had been absolutely drooling over. From me Erik got a new shirt, and the original blueprints of one of the first skyscrapers ever built in New York City…and a really big kiss from me for the earrings.

Slowly people began to leave, but not before congratulating Erik and I and saying things like, "See you at the wedding!"

Before we knew it, it was very late and the only people who were left were my mother and father, Andy and Leo, James, Lily and their two kids, and me and Erik. For about an hour we all sat and talked; though Lily hardly said a word. In fact, she spent most of her time cleaning up the stray glasses and bits of wrapping paper left by the party guests.

"Well, I hate to say it, but we should be going," Andy said at last, "Our flight is the day after tomorrow and we still need to pack, and to do that we need sleep," she smiled,

"We should go to," I said, turning to Erik, "It's getting late,"

"Oh I hate to see you girls go…and you two as well," she nodded to Erik and Leo,

"I know mom," Andy and I embraced her,

"Do you have everything? Do you need anything? Can't you stay a bit longer?" my mother asked all these things in rapid fire,

As we put on our coats and gathered our things we said; yes, no, and no. Leo opened the door and press the button to start the car so it would warm up; but as he looked outside he cursed under his breath,

"What is it?" Erik asked, moving next to him so he could see what Leo was looking at, "God…" he murmured,

Outside was a complete blizzard; the snow was falling rapidly and the wind blew fiercely. On the ground a foot of snow lay, and in some places the wind had blown it into drifts, partly revealing the ground below which shown in a glimmering icy glair; reflecting the Christmas lights on some of the houses around us.

"Honey, come look at his," Erik called to me and I was at his side in a step,

"Oh damn," I said under my breath as everyone else gathered to look as well,

"Oh you can't drive in this!" My mother said firmly, "You have to stay here!"

I hated to agree with her, "I think she might be right," I admitted.

Erik moved away from the door and took off his coat; he had been in one car accident due to bad weather, and he did not want to risk his life or mine in a treacherous ride home.

"I guess we are staying than," Andy sounded as unexcited about this prospect as I was,

"Oh wonderful!" My mother had never looked so happy in her life, "I have clean towels…and the kids can sleep on the pullout couch…and it will be a tight squeeze but I think you can all fit in Olivia's old room," Mine was the only room which had survived my parents redecorating craze.

"It will be just like when you were kids!" My mother was absolutely ecstatic.

And this was why, some time later, Erik found himself in the bathroom upstairs using a barrowed toothbrush and wearing an old barrowed T shirt and ill fitting pajama pants. Erik, Leo, and James were all given old clothes of my father's. They were slightly uncomfortable, but they were better than sleeping in their clothes.

Erik walked back to my room where we were discussing how the sleeping arrangements would go. My room had two beds and then ample floor space. We were inflating the air mattress.

"Well I think Erik should get a bed, because of his cast," Andy said as Erik hobbled into the room,

"No, it's alright," Erik said, "I'll be fine wherever,"

"No, it's the bed for you," Andy said firmly, "Besides, it is Olivia's bed," she turned to Lily, "Rock, paper, scissors for who gets the other bed?" I swear, seeing everyone in old clothes we had left here over the years and being back in my old bedroom with my sisters it was like being a teenager all over again.

Erik watched with fascination as the two of them balled one of their fists and said, "One two three shoot,"

"Ha! Paper covers rock!" Andy exclaimed, jumping up and down, "We get a bed," she turned to her husband and hugged him. Lily grumbled something and headed off to her air mattress.

Five minutes later, we were all tucked into bed and we switched off the lights. However, even as I nestled against Erik's body, desiring his warmth in the cold bed, I no longer felt tired. The situation was oddly exciting; Andy and I, back in the same room again.

"Olivia?" I heard her whisper just as I was going to whisper her name,

"Yeah?" suddenly I was a kid again,

"Are you awake?"

"Yeah" I started to giggle. Next to me Erik, who was extremely tired, groaned and opened his eyes.

"This is just like it used to be! It's weird!" Andy whispered, and she started to laugh as well; just remembering all the things we used to do and talk about in that room was enough to send us both into a fit of giggles.

"Would you two be quiet?" Lily demanded angrily from the floor,

"Ok," we both whispered, but then two minutes later we both burst out again,

"Really! That is _enough_!" Lily cried, "You two always do this! You don't care what I say…"

To our surprise we heard her voice break and she started to cry,

"Lily," Andy's voice was full of concern, "What's wrong?"

She didn't say anything for awhile but we heard her crying, "Lily? What's wrong?" Andy asked again,

"It's you two! You always do this!" she sounded hysterical, "You don't care what I say or what I think; you two just do what ever you want and leave me out!"

Andy turned on the light by her bed, "We don't do that Lily,"

"Yes! Yes you do! Ever since we were kids you've done it!" She retorted, "You two always get to be the center of attention and you leave me in the dark!"

"Lily…" Andy was sympathetic toward her, but I found it hard to be so after what she had said to me earlier that night,

"What?" she snapped, "You know I'm right don't you? Just look at tonight…all the attention was on you two in you're stupid show! No one even mentioned that I sewed the costumes for all the plays! And all mom ever talks about is how much she wants to see _Olivia_ _and_ _Andy_! She doesn't even care that I am here all the time!" it seemed that Lily had been building all these grievances for years and was finally releasing them.

"Lily," Andy started again,

"No! I'm not done!" Lily yelled, "I'm sick of no one appreciating what I do! All the praise goes to _Olivia_ and _Andy_ because they have high profile _careers _and they moved away from home; no one cares that I have made a family! That I'm the one with children!"

"That's not true Lily," Andy said in a low voice, "I'm sorry you feel this way Lily, but let me just tell you…I think everything you do is amazing…especially the kids! I could never do that,"

I knew it was my turn to say something but I couldn't think of anything. I was still mad at Lily. However, Erik nudged me and I knew I had to do something.

"Lily…" I spoke before I really knew what I was going to say,

"Don't Olivia…I owe you and apology," Lily took a steadying breath, "I never should have said what I did before; Erik seems like a wonderful man," She paused and shook her head, whipping her eyes, "And I know…I know he didn't knock over the tree, Andrea told me,"

"It's alright," I said, "I'm sorry we seem to upset you so much; but believe me I had no idea; I didn't know you thought you were left out; I just thought…"

"You thought that I never wanted to be the star of the show? Or the cosmopolitan carrier woman?" she laughed mirthlessly, "But my dreams never seemed to matter," her voice trembled again,

"Oh Lily!" Andy got out of her bed and went to the air mattress, sitting on it and embracing her. Thinking this was the right thing to do I went and joined my sisters. We told Lily that we loved her, and then we were proud of her and that we knew mother and father were too. Unfortunately, the old air mattress had reached its limit; we heard a big pop and then the whole thing began to deflate.

"Oh my God…" James shook his head in disbelief,

The somber mood disappeared immediately. My sisters and I began to laugh as all the lights were switched back on in order for Erik and Leo to see what had happened.

"Honey? What's funny?" Erik asked me,

"We…the…it's deflated!" I laughed, still embracing my sisters,

"Now where are we going to sleep?" James seemed more angry than amused; the three of us looked at each other.

Ten minutes later, the two mattresses lay side by side on the floor. All six of us were uncomfortably huddled together in the two beds.

"So we all agree?" James said, "We never speak of this again?"

"Yes," we all muttered, but not a moment later I began to laugh,

"What?" Lily asked, and her voice sounded much happier than it had before; ridiculous situations can have that affect on people,

"We are going to be talking about this for years!" I laughed. It really was too funny. But there was no other choice. It was either that or make Lily and James sleep on the floor. The kids already had the couch, and there was simply no other place for them to sleep.

None of us slept much that night; we were too nervous about what might happen if we were to dose off and then end up rolling over on some else's spouse. We stayed up most of the night listening to the roaring wind outside and telling stories about our childhood. Even if we hadn't all been in the same mega bed I would have still felt more close to them all than I ever had.

Hours before dawn we all slept at last. When Andrea and Harry burst into the room in the morning they were rewarded with the hilarious sight of all of us.

All and all it was a good Christmas, Erik thought as he woke the next day. He had gotten a new shirt, some old blueprints, a fiancé, and a family.

_This chapter is written in loving memory of my uncle Jim and the part inspiration and namesake of the character Leo; John Spencer who played Leo on The West Wing who both recently left this world for the next. _

_Good night sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest_


	24. Ball's Away

Ball's Away

"I can not stand it Raoul! I can not stand it another minute!" Christine yelled hysterically,

"Stand what? I've done nothing to upset you!" Raoul yelled back. The servants listened at the door to the elaborate dinning room as the young couple argued. The old cook shook her head; not even married a year and they were already fighting.

"Yes you have! You have changed Raoul and not for the good; you act different and I do not like it," Christine's eyes shown with emotion and she crossed her arms tightly over her chest; hugging herself to try to keep her thin frame from trembling,

"We are adults Christine, we have responsibilities!" Raoul boomed, "We can not be the same way we were when we were children! There are differences between who we were then and who we are now,"

"Do not treat me like a fool Raoul!" Christine sobbed, "I know we are not children anymore and you have greater responsibilities now, but you have completely abandoned your old self! You are not the same man I married!"

Raoul stood in his grand dinning room; the table was a dark mahogany and the chairs all were decorated with ornately carved wooden backs. He had been so proud of all of the elegant, praise worthy décor in his perfect house, but now that his perfect wife was enraged all he wanted to do was hurl one of the beautifully crafted chairs across the room.

His face was almost expressionless, but in his eyes Christine could read a deep anger "Is this about _him_?" Raoul finally asked her, his voice seething with rage, "Do you still think of him? Do you wish he was here now!"

Christine opened her dark brown eyes wide, "You idiot," she whispered at first, before her voice came back to her in full force, "YOU IDIOT!" she screamed, "You think I wished I were with him? With the monster who kidnapped me and tried to take me away and force me to be his bride? I feel sorry for him yes! I take pity on that miserable soul for being too ugly to be a part of this world! But I love you Raoul! I have only ever loved you! But I do not know who you are any more!"

Christine stormed past her husband of not even a year and threw the doors open, not even noticing as all the servants of the house scattered and tried to look as thought they had been doing something other than listening at the door. The old cook looked tentatively into the room to see Raoul standing beside the table, his forehead resting in one hand while his other arm hung listlessly by his side.

The cook turned and walked back toward the kitchen. She knew what was bothering the young coupled. Her master was gone for long periods of time arraigning things and trying to make sure that the de Chagny fortune, which had begun to erode over the years, did not disappear completely.

It was not easy to fit into the snobbish, high class culture of Paris when you were a dreamer and an adventurer as Christine was, the cook knew, and it was not helping her that her husband was never by her side to support her and that he seemed to be completely immersed in traditional culture; something his wife was not at all interested in.

The cook sighed; it was a shame. They had seemed so happy when they had returned to the home after their marriage. She wondered what it would take to get the two back together.

New York

There are many things we as New Yorkers celebrate with the coming of spring; the thawing of the streets, the first time you can wear a sleeveless dress with out freezing, openings, sales, and summer collections.

For Erik and I, we had something else worth celebrating. There was of course the engagement and the wedding; but one day in late April we had something else even better.

"Do you want to keep them?"

"No; I think the dog would just chew on them,"

"There's really nothing we can do with them anyway,"

"Alright, are you ready?"

Erik nodded vigorously, "For about six months I've been ready,"

"Alright then, here we go,"

"To freedom!" I said later that day; Erik and I were sitting in a bustling restaurant, celebrating with a champagne toast,

"Thank God," Erik said; at long last his arm and leg were free of the casts from the car accident. To me it symbolized the last part of an old life falling away and now it was on to something new.

We both drank and then set down our glasses. I noticed what Erik was doing and I laughed,

"It's still bothering you, isn't it?" I asked him,

"One arm is bigger than the other!" He exclaimed, "It's so…_odd_,"

"That's normal, you heard what the doctor said," I smiled,

"Olivia, look," he put one arm next to the other, "Look! You don't think that's worth staring it?"

I laughed, "I'm just happy the smelly cast is _gone_,"

"So am I," Erik had never noticed just how much easier life was with a completely mobile leg and arm. His heart had not been this light in a long time; every day he wondered what he should do about telling me his past. Months ago, he had promised himself that after his casts were off and before we got married, he would tell me.

But he was not thinking about that now. Now all he wanted was to enjoy this day when he was really, for the first time, just a normal, unencumbered guy having dinner with his fiancé.

"How does it feel?" I asked him,

"Amazing," He said, bending his arm and leg like he had not been able to do since the accident, "I've never appreciated picking up a fork so much,"

"You just make sure you never get in an accident again alright?" I said seriously,

"Well as much as I enjoyed not being able to shower for six months I don't plan on doing that again," Erik said dryly,

I smiled, "I'm not kidding!" I put my hand over his recently freed hand, "That really scared me,"

Erik entwined his fingers with mine and sighed, "I swear I will never take a cab again,"

"Well you can't do that; you don't know how to drive," I teased him,

"No I don't," he admitted good-naturedly, "Something I'm sure you could help me remedy, and until then I could get a driver,"

I laughed, "No," I shook my head, "Drivers are for rich men who smoke cigars and…have fur coats,"

Erik laughed, "So you think I shouldn't get the fur coat?"

"Not if you want to marry me," I said quickly, still smiling,

Erik's hand was still over mind and I felt his fingers trace over my engagement ring; he stared at it and thought about all it promised. For the rest of my life I promised to belong to him. We would have years of happiness and love; that was if I didn't leave him after I found out about him…

"Erik?" his expression was spacey as he stared down at the ring between his fingers but when I said his name he snapped to attention,

"What?"

"What is it?" He looked confused at me, "What were you thinking about? You looked distant,"

"Oh…" Erik thought for a moment, "Nothing…I just can't believe I'm marrying you; sometimes it's too good to be true," He hoped that would make me stop prying; he wasn't ready to tell me anything yet.

It did work. I blushed and giggled and smiled like an idiot.

After dinner, taking full advantage of the warm night and Erik's increased mobility, we walked home. By the end of it my manolo clad feet were not happy, but the rest of me was and I sensed Erik's joy at being able to walk correctly and swing his arm.

"That was exhausting," I said once we were back in our apartment. In January Erik had sublet his apartment so now mine really was our one and only home. I crashed down on the sofa and put my feet up. Sammy was jumping all over Erik and finally he gave in,

"I'm going to take him for a walk, do you want to come?" He asked me, retrieving Sammy's leash from where we kept it on a hook by the door,

I groaned and hid my head under a pillow, "No more walking," I wined,

Erik laughed at me, "Alright," he came over and took the pillow off of my face. He cupped his hand around the back of my head and lowered his lips to mine. At first I thought it was just going to be a quick goodbye peck on the lips, but his lips pressed hard to mine. Hungrily he opened my mouth to his; his weight shifted as his knee came to rest between my thighs. Gently he lowered my upper body until my back rested on the sofa. Just when I thought he would have me right there, he pulled his lips from mine and lightly kissed my forehead.

"I'll be back in a few minutes; don't move," he smiled as he got up and called to the dog. I watched as he hooked the dog to the leash and left.

For the entire time he was gone, I lay on my back on the couch in the exact position he had left me; my legs still slightly parted from his knee having been between them. Just when unfulfilled desire was becoming unbearable he returned.

He laughed when he saw me, "I didn't mean it literally," he said as he took off the light coat he had been wearing, but I could tell that he was excited by the fact that I had waited motionless for him,

"Shut up," I said in a desperate voice as he came back to me,

"Where were we?" he asked as his lips locked with mine once more. He broke away and slid his arms beneath me. Strengthened by desire, Erik lifted me off the couch and carried me into our bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

"It was amazing," I was telling the girls about our night at our weekly lunch catch up, "I mean, we had done it while he still had the casts on…but it's just," I closed me eyes and sighed, "It's incomparable to without,"

"I know; I slept with a guy in a cast once; it just wasn't the same," Rebecca spoke in her usual matter of fact tone, "So how many times did you…"

"Uhh," Susan cleared her throat before Rebecca could finish her sentence and glanced at the family of four who was seated at the next table,

Rebecca rolled her eyes, "Well so how many times did you…you know…"

I sighed and thought about how good it had felt to have both of Erik's hands on my body, to feel his full range of mobility as he was inside me. I held up a number on my hands,

"Wow," all three girls spoke in unison before we all started laughing, drawing stares from the neighboring family of four.

"Good for you Liv," Jackie congratulated me, "But I have some news that may make all of us even more excited," We all looked at her seriously, our eyes wide,

"God you aren't getting married too?" Rebecca asked,

Jackie made a face, "God no…I like Brent but not that much," Brent was a man she had met at Blockbuster when they had both reached for the last copy of Charade. Jackie had later found out that Brent didn't even really like that movie, he was just trying to find a way to talk to her. The irony had amused her; a charade about Charade, and she had kept him around.

"What I have to say will thrill you," Jackie continued,

"Would you tell us already?" I demanded, practically bouncing up and down as I wondered what could be better than sex with Erik,

"Ok…I have tickets for all of us to the Metropolitan Costume Institute Ball!"

We all shrieked, now winning blatant glairs from the family next to us. The Metropolitan Costume Institute Ball was the New York even for fashion and Hollywood glamour. Every year Vogue covered it, so Jackie had been before, but none of the rest of us had. It really was better, or at least as good, as sex.

"Don't thank me," Jackie smiled at our excited reaction, "Thank all of my superiors who got food poisoning on a trip to Bermuda,"

"Oh God!" I was so excited, "This is almost better than sex," the family next to us got up and left, "We have to go shopping!"

"I know! I have no idea what to wear; oh and another thing," she pointed at all of us, "You are all going to bring a date, and make sure he has a tux, and that it's not ugly,"

"Fantastic, I can bring Jerry," Rebecca said,

"Now, is Jerry the one you met in the bar or in the cab?" I asked, it was hard sometimes to keep Rebecca's men straight,

"In the bar," Rebecca said smiling, "He's-"

"Great in bed we know," Susan said, and her voice sounded a bit downcast,

"What's wrong?" I asked her,

"I don't have anyone! The ball is in a week! I can't meet someone by then," Susan fiddled with her fork,

"Oh sweetie, don't worry about it, we will find you someone," I reassured her,

"I don't want someone! I want the one!" she said, her voice the perfect Susan mix of sad and angry, "I'm sick of going out on dates and being in relationships and none of them ending in marriage!"

We all looked around at each other, not quite knowing what to say. I felt awful; I knew how important finding the perfect guy was to Susan, "Well…maybe we can fix you up with someone," I suggested,

"Why? Do you know anyone who would be good for me?" Susan asked, a glimmer of hope in her eyes,

"Well…no," I admitted, but then I added quickly, "Maybe Erik does, you know someone he works with,"

"Yeah don't worry about it," Jackie assured her, "We'll find you someone to go with, and even if he's not prince charming you can still enjoy the ball,"

"Erik? Do you know any good men?"

He looked up from the design he was immersed in and stared at me, "Is this your way of telling me I don't pay enough attention to you?"

"No silly," He was sitting down on the sofa and I joined him, curling up with my law review book, "It's for Susan…for the ball,"

I had told Erik about the Costume Institute Ball only hours after I had found out myself and I had still been bubbling over with excitement. He had had no idea what it was and quickly googled it. He had shuttered when he realized that it was a lot like that damn Masquerade Ball he had once attended. However, I was so excited about it he did not want to ruin my fun by telling me he was less than thrilled. He also decided that he would not tell me about his past until after the ball.

"Umm…maybe," Erik thought about all the men at his work; he had become friends with some of them since he had been hired last summer. Of course it had not been easy; Erik was an unknown when he was given a much desired position. However, there were some who had been quite nice to him from the start, and as he had built his reputation for genius, he had earned some respect. After returning to work with a new face and a lot of sympathy after the car accident, his relations with his colleagues had grown even better. The only person he never talked to was Karen, for obvious reasons.

"What is she looking for?" Erik asked me, his eyes returning to his design,

"Prince charming," I said simply, opening my book,

"Well I know a bald guy in management, will that do?" Erik said, a wry smile on his face,

I hit his shoulder, "I'm serious, someone nice," I said, "Do you think you could do it?"

"Of course," he sighed, "but you know going to a fancy fashion ball with a girl you don't know is not entirely appealing to men,"

"It's not a fancy fashion ball it's the Metropolitan Costume Institute Ball," I corrected him, "Oh and whoever you ask needs to have a nice tux,"

"Does this mean I have to wear one two?" He asked me, turning to face me again. It amused him; before he preferred the gentlemanly attire of tuxedos and suites but now he found he would much rather just relax in jeans.

"Yes it means you have to wear one two," I said, putting down my book and wrapping my arms around Erik's neck from behind and rested my head against his, "You will look fantastic and handsome," I kissed the side of his head,

Erik put one of his hands over my arm and squeezed it, "And what will you look like?"

"Like the perfect picture of fashion," I said, then I looked down at Erik's work, "What is this for? It doesn't look like a building,"

"Well it's not," Erik explained, excited I was interested in what he was doing, "It's part of the Bronx,"

"What? It doesn't look like the Bronx,"

"Well it will if we win this bid," Erik explained, "City planning has been asking architects to design entire areas of the community; parks, buildings, and anything else, trying to rehabilitate run down areas; this used to never happen but it's become more frequent,"

"Wow…so this is a pretty big deal then?" I said,

"Yeah it is," Erik murmured, lost for a moment in his design,

I smiled and kissed his cheek again, "I'm so proud of you,"

Erik felt his heart beat a little harder; knowing the woman he loved was proud of him made him feel ecstatic. He turned and faced me, "I could never have done anything with out you," Erik knew that if he had come to New York after the mess with Christine and found just another neighbor in me instead of someone who loved him he never would have done as well at his job.

"Oh Erik I didn't do anything," I smiled at him, "You are talented without me,"

"But I'm no good without you," Erik said,

Shaking my head I kissed his lips tenderly, "You know at some point you are going to have to stop saying the exact right thing at the exact right time or you'll kill me," I pressed on Erik and forced him to recline onto the sofa until I was laying on top of him,

"Wait, Olivia, I have work to do," Erik said, trying to gently remove me from on top of him,

"So do I," I said in my most sensual voice, and I began to unbutton his shirt,

"Olivia I'm serious," He said taking my hand away from his shirt,

"So am I," I said, refusing to give up I moved my lips to his neck, sucking gently. Finally Erik gave in, groaning with pleasure and releasing my hand. I continued to unbutton his shirt as I felt his hand slide under my shirt while the other rested on the curve of my butt. I moved to the other side of his neck just as I felt him unhook my bra. It was good to have both of those hands back.

That night I fell asleep right away but Erik stayed awake. He lay on his back, my arm draped over him and my head nestled against his shoulder. He had his arm around me and he traced small circles over my back as he stared up at the dark ceiling.

He had never felt so torn. On the one hand, he was happy and in love and looking forward to our wedding. On the other hand, he knew the hardest thing he would ever have to do was yet to come. He had to tell me the truth; and he was worried that after he did so, he would lose me forever. He sighed and closed his eyes, trying to memorize exactly the way I felt as I lay beside him. At least he had this now he thought as he kissed the top of my head. At least he had had love once.

It was Wednesday and Erik had still not done anything about finding a date for Susan. He really wished he could just forget about it; asking a guy from work to go to a ball as his fiancés friend's date was an awkward position to be put in.

Still, I had asked him to do something and he had said he would. So, after his last meeting for the day, Erik made up his mind to just try to get it over with.

Since he had been employed there, Greg Ellison had been a friend of his. He worked mostly with other architects, making sure their designs did not overrun zoning laws. True it was not a very exciting job but it did pay well, and Erik thought that Greg was good natured, though not really the most attractive of men. Out of everyone he was the only person he even felt remotely comfortable asking.

After the meeting Erik approached him; when Greg saw him coming he spoke,

"Erik," he nodded his head, "Is this about the city planning? Because I did have a chance to check it over and it looked good to me,"

"Thanks," Erik said, sincerely wishing that was all he had to inquire about, "But actually no…there is something else I wanted to talk to you about,"

"Oh?"

"It's…well," Erik did not quite know how to say it,

"Oh God; Am I being fired?" Greg's eyes narrowed,

"No!" Erik said quickly, "It's nothing work related,"

Greg looked questioningly at him, "Well…what is it?"

"Have you ever heard of the Metropolitan Costume Institute Ball?"

"Well I did it," Erik burst into our apartment later that night, "I got Susan a date,"

My eyes lit and I rushed over to him, embracing him and kissing him swiftly on the lips, "Oh thank you thank you thank you!"

"Well, it was awkward and I had to promise Greg our first born, but he agreed," Erik set down the briefcase he was holding and ran a hand through my hair; I had let it grow and it was now down past my shoulders,

"So," I took him by the hand and led him over to the dinning room table, "What is he like? What does he do? What's his name?"

"Greg Ellison," Erik said yawning, "He is a lawyer I think; he does a lot with zoning laws, he's a really nice guy,"

I came back to his side with some Chinese food in hand, "Is he cute?"

"I don't know," Erik answered,

"Oh yes you do; I don't care what they say men know when other men are attractive," I said obstinately, "Now: is he cute?"

"Well…not conventionally attractive, but looks are not the only things that matter are they?" Suddenly I remembered all the ridicule Erik had had to endure because of his face and I realized how hurtful I had just been to him.

"Of course not," I said quickly, "He's nice though?"

"Yes, he's very nice,"

"And he had a tux?"

"Yes,"

I smiled and handed him a carton of takeout, "Well done darling; thank you so much,"

"My pleasure," And although it had been awkward, Erik thought it was worth it to please me.

The best part for me of the upcoming event was upon me; the shopping. The Costume Institute Ball was a major event and I knew I could look nothing less than fabulous. While the prospect of shopping excited me, it horrified Erik. Still, he needed a new tuxedo, and we had agreed to kill to ball gowns with one stiletto and go shopping together.

Our first order of business was to get Erik fitted for his tuxedo.

"I think you look very handsome," I told him as he stood and fiddled with his sleeves as the tailor marked adjustments,

"I better for the price I am paying," Erik still did not agree with the amount of money required to purchase quality clothing in the city.

I laughed, "Trust me you will be the absolute center of attention," Erik inwardly rolled his eyes. He was not used to his new status as a normal person and sometimes he found himself subconsciously trying to hide the once deformed side of his face. He would forget that he was like any other man in the eyes of those around him and he still tended to feel uncomfortable around large crowds.

Once that was finished, we moved to the true fun of the trip. As much as Erik hated it, he had to admit it was enjoyable to watch me flutter around the store, looking at everything and then trying on everything.

The first time I came out of the dressing room Erik had nearly had a heart attack. The first dress I had chosen to try on was not really anything I would wear, but it was so grand I wanted to see how it looked anyway. It was a pale pink, corset top, with a large skirt which was supported from underneath with yards of tulle.

It looked to Erik like what Christine had worn to the masquerade.

"Well, I know I look ridiculous but I couldn't help it; I just wanted to try it on," I said as I stepped out and looked at myself in the three mirrors in the dressing room,

"Uh…it's…" Erik did not quite know what to say, except that just looking at the dress sent chills up his spine,

"Don't worry I'm not wearing it," I said, watching myself spin in the mirrors. Truth be told I did not think the dress looked so bad, but it just wasn't my style.

The next dress was much more me. Black chiffon full length Vera Wang dress with a deep V neck. This was much more to Erik's liking. I smiled as I caught the way he was looking at me as I inspected the dress in the mirror.

Still, there was more. A short, black Vera Wang which fell just above my knees. I absolutely loved it but I thought it was too short of the event.

A strapless Diane vonFurstenberg ruffled gown with a lilac and black print and then a cream Vera Wang draped gown that I thought looked too much like a toga.

It came down to a what Erik amusedly called a war of the Wangs; There was a full length, crimson gown with spaghetti straps, and then another red print dress with a skirt that ended just above my ankles, a plunging neckline and spaghetti straps. In the end I chose the shorter dress; that way I could show off my shoes.

(_this is a complete authors note: if you want to see the dress Olivia wears go to __ go to dresses, then cocktail, and the look at all of them! The one she wears in the end is the red printed one with the beaded hem) _

Erik was a bit unsettled by the fact that I had chosen a red dress; just as he had once worn red. He pushed that thought aside as we left the store, trying to keep his heart light and mirror my own enthusiastic mood.

"So now all I need are shoes," I said lightly, and I looked out of the corner of my eye to see Erik's reaction; he rolled his eyes,

"Do you mean to tell me that with all of those shoes you have in your closet, you don't have one pair you can wear with that dress?" Erik sounded disbelieving,

"Erik, this is the event of New York City; I can't look anything less than stunning," I insisted happily; we were walking down the street, our clothes were on hold at the respective stores we had bought them at. We would pick them up the day before the ball; the store managers were more than happy to comply with our requests when they heard that their garments would be worn to the Costume Institute Ball and had a very good chance of ending up in VOGUE.

It was raining bullets and Erik and I were both huddled under a big umbrella; searching for a place to eat which would also serve as shelter from April showers. We ducked into an unobtrusive little restaurant where we were seated immediately.

"So tell me more about the guy we are setting Susan up with; what's he like?" I asked,

"Umm…" Erik was more interested in what was on the menu that talking about Greg Ellison, "What dear?"

I sighed, "This Greg fellow, what's he like?"

Erik looked as though he was about to say something and then changed his mind, saying instead, "Fellow? I didn't know you used the word fellow,"

I shook my head, "What? It's a word…people use it…it's not like…intrauterine,"

"What about the word intrauterine?" Erik asked confused,

"People don't use that word,"

"You just did,"

"Erik!" I cried finally, "Are you trying to frustrate me?"

I looked at him and I saw the sly smile spread across his face and I knew he _had_ been trying to frustrate me, because frustrating me amused him.

"Sorry darling," He took my had and brushed his lips across my knuckles, sending a tingling sensation up and down my spine, "It's just that you look so adorable when you are frustrated,"

"None of this is amusing Erik," I knew I didn't believe my words and neither did he; my face was red and I couldn't keep a smile off my lips.

"Forgive me," he said, still holding my hand,

Goddamn him he was good. Sometimes when I was with him I felt like I was watching an old romance movie where the guy the girl falls in love with always says the most perfect, impossibly romantic things and does the sexiest, most charming actions. I had never believed that men like him existed in New York. Years of dating had taught me not to expect too much when it came to the perfect match. And then Erik had come along; I was convinced that there were no other men like him anywhere. I didn't know how right I was.

I was still staring starry eyed at Erik when the waiter came up to our table,

"Hi I'm Beth," She started, "Aw, let me guess; just engaged?" She smiled broadly and looked from Erik to me,

"Well, in December actually," I said,

"Wow, and the nostalgia hasn't warn off yet! Good for you two," we both laughed, "So when is the wedding?"

"June 25," I said quickly; we had only set the date a few weeks ago. It had all been very amazing; Erik's boss had been delighted when he had heard his favorite architect was getting married. He had been worried that perhaps Erik would tire of New York and eventually want to return to his home country of France. He had seen just how, when Erik had had to be out sick after the accident, his firm would be sourly weakened if he were to leave. Marrying a New Yorker seemed to him like a sign that Erik would not be going anywhere. To help secure Erik even further, he had pulled some strings and gotten us the Plaza Hotel.

"Excellent; would you like to hear the specials?"

We ordered and Beth shuffled off to place our order. I went back to drilling Erik about Greg,

"So what color hair does he have?"

"Who?"

"Greg!"

"Oh," Erik thought a moment, "I really never noticed…brown I think,"

"Is he tall? short?" Erik looked as though I had just asked him to decipher the riddle of the sphinx, "You do know this man don't you?"

"Yes I know him, I just never really noticed these things; I was under the impression that a man's appearance was secondary to his personality, but apparently looks are all that matter to you," He burst out angrily,

I sat stunned, "Erik..." I did not quite know what to say. I looked into his hardened eyes with wonder; had he forgotten how I had loved him before? Before the accident? Did my line of questioning really merit this?

And then the cruel man laughed. Even as I watched him his cold eyes sparked to life and glittered in delight; his lips parted in a wide smile, "You should see your face darling," he said through his laughter, "I really had you going!"

"Erik!" I didn't know if I should be amused or mad, "You were joking?"

"Of course I was; you know I could never be really upset with you," He was still laughing, very pleased with himself and his little acting job,

"Maybe not but I can be angry with you; that was a mean thing to do," Despite my attempt to sound incensed, I knew there was a hit of humor in my voice. Erik obviously knew this as he calmly sat across from me and sipped his wine.

"For your, and Susan's, benefit Greg Ellison has brown hair and brown eyes, he is about two inches shorter than I am. He is not fat nor does he smell. His teeth are straight and his hair is not greasy, is that enough?" Erik smiled at me, his eye brows raised in question,

I shook my head, "Yes…and you could have told me all that before and not made this so difficult,"

"But then what is the fun in that?" Erik laughed,

I shook my head but I finally gave into the urge to laugh at him, "You are so difficult sometimes,"

"But you love it when I am difficult,"

"We'll see," I said coldly and he took a second look at me. I could see his carefree wry manner disappear slightly at the thought that I might actually be mad. It was difficult because I was so amused by him but I held my poker face for several moments before smiling.

"Ahh I see how it is," He understood he had been fed some of his own medicine, "Cheers to you Olivia," he raised his drink as he smiled at me,

I raised my drink as well and laughed, "And the student has become the master,"

Erik understood what I meant and reacted with due amusement, but he couldn't shake what it reminded him of. Damn it, he thought, but lately everything was reminding him of his past life. Probably because he was going to have to reveal it to me soon, he reasoned. Soon, but not yet. He shook his head to clear it of these thoughts,

"Did you tell Susan you found her a date?" Erik asked,

"Yes; she's excited; I swear, even after all that she has been through with dating she still thinks she can meet the perfect man," I said,

"Has she had worse than that Grove person?" Erik asked, speaking gruffly of the man who had once elbowed him in the eye,

"Oh yeah, way worse," I nodded vigorously, "We all have had some real ass holes in our collection of ex boyfriends…and fiancés,"

"What is the worst date you ever went on?" Erik asked, interested in disusing anyone's past that was not his,

"Umm…this guy stole my wallet so that he had an excuse to bring it to me while I was out and then we had to walk around…" I said in a would be complaining voice,

"Hey!" Erik said, quickly realizing what I was doing, "That was me!"

"Ohhh…" I said, making a face as though I had only just realized this,

"Alright you have had your fun at my expense; ha ha," Erik said in a would be hurt voice,

"Oh darling," I laughed apologetically and took his hand,

"So seriously, worse date ever," Erik asked again,

"Ok…" I thought for a moment, "Oh! I remember…this guy took me to this horrible Mexican food place, flirted with the waitress, called me Olive the whole night even though I corrected him about a hundred times, spilled wine on my dress and then tried to get me to come back to his apartment where we could 'get the stain out'" I shook my head, "There was not a second date,"

"Ohh my poor Olive…I mean Olivia!" He laughed as I glared at him,

"Don't even joke like that Erik," I warned him, "Dating is enough to drive you mad; you have no idea how relived I am that I will never have to go on a first date again,"

Suddenly I wondered if Erik felt the same way. I knew how he loved me, but I also knew the fear men suddenly have when they realize they will be with the same woman for the rest of their lives. I wondered if Erik had this fear, but how was I supposed to ask him?

Later that night when we had returned home and were sitting in bed, each of us trying to finish something before we went to sleep I decided I would give the burning question a try.

"So do you ever think about it?" I asked him carefully,

"About what?"

"That fact that we are only going to be with each other…for the rest of our lives?" I studied him carefully, wondering if he knew what I was talking about.

"All the time," Erik responded quickly, "And it continues to fascinate and thrill me,"

"Really?"

"Yes," he took his eyes off his work to look at me, "Why?"

"Well I was just wondering," I said, trying to figure out how to put this, "It doesn't scare you does it? that you will never…have sex…with anyone else but me?" I realized I had no idea how to ask this do I was blunt,

Erik's eyes widened, "What?" he said shocked,

"I just know that some men get freaked out by the thought…it's ok if you are; I was just wondering,"

Erik paused. So this was how men of the future thought; not fortunate that they had found someone they really cared about, but nervous that they would get board with them in bed. This thought had not even come into Erik's mind. His whole life had been marked with rejection by women, from his mother to Christine. No one had dared to touch him at all, let alone get intimate with him. Erik was so relieved to find someone who wanted him, in an emotional and physical sense; he just hoped he could satisfy me.

"Olivia that is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard," Erik said sternly, "Do you think that there is a moment of the day where I don't think about being with you?"

I smiled at him, "That is the sweetest…most horny thing anyone has ever said to me," I leaned over and kissed his cheek,

We both went back to our work. But another thought popped into my head, "Erik, how many women have you slept with?"

"What!" Erik was shocked I would ask him such a thing, "Olivia what has gotten into you tonight?"

"I just think that there are things we should know about each other before we get married," I said, trying to defend my curiosity. In truth I realized that these were things that I had known about other boyfriends. Mark had slept with 54 women before he had met me.

"And these are the things you want to know about?" Erik asked, and I noted a definite anger in his voice,

"Are you doing the thing where you act mad but your really not?" I asked him hopefully,

"No," his voice was cold and he turned away. He put his book down on the bedside table and switched off his lamp. Keeping his back to me he lay down and pulled the comforter up to his chin and closed his eyes.

"Erik don't me mad!" I cried, shaking his shoulder, "I don't care what your number is! I thought that we could share things about ourselves and be honest with each other! What ever the answer is it won't make me change the way I feel about you,"

Erik rolled over and faced me, "You really want to know?" He reasoned that soon enough he was going to tell me everything; maybe it was best to ease me in bit by bit. He sighed, "One woman Olivia. I've only ever slept with you,"

I felt like I had been hit by a truck, "What?" I gaped at him, disbelieving,

"Yes it is," He said, looking away, "Go ahead, laugh if you want to," he suddenly felt like he had just shared too much. He felt like he had finally become someone he could be proud of, and he worried that when he told me the truth the man he had built up would crumble away. He worried he would reveal that underneath everything he still thought he did not belong and was desperate for acceptance.

"Erik I'm not laughing," I said, though I couldn't keep the shocked tone out of my voice and I was smiling ear to ear, "It's just…I never would have thought that you were a…"

"A what? A social freak who was too ugly to be with a woman?" he bit out this statement angrily,

"Erik just listen to me for a second," I said, getting over the shock of his confession, "I am trying to tell you something," I grabbed him by the chin and forced him to look at me, "I remember the first time we slept together _very_ well, and that went down as the best night I have ever spent with a man. Now, I have slept with a lot of guys," Erik's eyes narrowed and I shook my head, "Wait a minute before you get mad…anyway, most of them had quite a bit of experience, and believe me you wouldn't have known it,"

"It that supposed to be a complement Olivia?" He asked, now feeling worse than ever as he imagined me being with other men.

"Yes! What I am saying is that you, with no experience, were much better in bed than other guys, who had experience," I waited, hoping this would make him feel better.

Erik stared at me for several seconds. He guessed that that was the best reaction he could have hoped for. And it wasn't a bad complement to hear, that at least out of all the men I had been with he was the best. The down side being that I had been with men before him.

"Come here Olivia," He motioned for me to come and lay next to him. I put down my work and switched off my light before I nestled down beside him. We were laying face to face and in the darkness I could see his eyes were still open. He circled an arm around my waist, gently pulling me close to him; showing me he wasn't angry. One of my hands rested on his chest and my head lay against his neck.

"Alright now it is your turn," Erik said once I had come to rest close to him,

"My turn for what?" I asked,

"You tell me something about your past that is terribly embarrassing,"

"Alright," I thought I owed him this, "Once I was walking down Madison Avenue and I was wearing this skirt that I had just bought on sale and it blew up,"

"You mean it exploded?" Erik asked wryly,

"You know what I mean! And I was wearing a thong so the whole street saw my ass," I laughed as I remembered how mortified I had been.

"Well that is embarrassing," Erik murmured,

I decided it was nice that I could share things like that with him. It was strange to think that Erik did not know everything about me and that I did not know everything about him. I always felt so close to him I was happy we could tell each other things, that we trusted each other enough to do that. It was so sweet…

"Erik!" I said in surprise as I felt his hand move from my waist to my backside,

"What? I was just wondering if you were wearing one of those thong things now," He said wickedly as his hand pressed the silk of my nightgown.

"Well?" I asked him slyly. He just laughed as he slid my thigh length nightgown up past my waist. I was not wearing anything underneath.

Later that night I was completely exhausted. It was four in the morning before Erik and I stopped. Satisfied and tired, Erik fell asleep. I stayed awake for only a few moments longer. I stared at him. His shirt was off and his arm was above the comforter. It was well defined; Erik had taken to exercising after the casts had come off. God, I thought as I fell asleep, I couldn't believe he had been a virgin.

The night of the ball finally came. I was so excited; nothing could go wrong this night. I had my gorgeous dress, my perfect three inch heals, and most importantly my fiancé. When Erik came out of the bathroom in his tux I was stunned.

"Honey you look fantastic!" I said, looking him up and down.

"You should start to get ready," Erik said; I was still in my robe and my hair was up in a towel.

"I know, I'm almost ready," I said, grabbing my dress off a hanger and picking up my shoes, "Just give me a few minutes," I kissed him lightly on the cheek as I bounced past him into the bathroom.

Erik sat down nervously in the bedroom. He was planning on doing it tonight. He had been developing an idea for awhile now. He had originally planned on proposing to me on top of the Empire State Building. He remembered from that first night in New York when he met me, I had said I wanted to be proposed to on top of the Empire State Building.

Now Erik had a new idea. One of the buildings he had designed was now far along in construction. He had arranged to take me up to the top of it tonight. It had a view he thought I would like. But I was not going up there to be proposed to. Erik had decided that tonight would be the night that he told me who he really was.

Completely oblivious to his plan, I excitedly got ready for the biggest fashion event of the year. For me, this was like day after Thanksgiving sales, great sex, good food and champagne all rolled into one.

"Ok," I said as I opened the door to the bathroom, "I'm coming out,"

Erik looked up as I entered the bathroom door. It was his turn to be impressed; from my red Vera Wang and strappy black heals to my now longer blond hair which hung in loose, wavy curls Erik thought I never looked so enticing.

"Wow…" he gaped at me, "You look amazing," he said, and I never felt more beautiful. And he looked good to, like something out of a woman's dream. His dark hair had grown out slightly since I had met him, something he attributed to better nutrition and grooming habits. A few strands hung down in his stunning green blue eyes. His black coat jacket fit him well and the white shirt he wore underneath was not buttoned all the way revealing a strip of his chest. His tie hung untied around his neck.

Wordlessly he stood from the bed as I came toward him. Smiling slyly, I gripped the edges of his shirt as he laid his hands on my waist. I buttoned his shirt the rest of the way up and then tied his black tie. What was it about putting a tie on a man that was so sexy?

"Alright then, I guess we are ready to go," I said; Jackie told us to be in front of our building and she would take care of the rest,

"Yes, I guess we should," Erik's hands were still around my waist and he stared at me, trying to memorize everything about me in case this was the last time he saw me. After he told me his secret I would probably cut him out of my life forever Erik thought.

"Ok," I said, making to move, but Erik's hands held me still, "What?" I asked in a soft voice as I looked up at him, resting my hands on his arms,

"Close your eyes," Erik said,

"We don't have time for this Erik," I smiled,

"Please?" I sighed and complied. Erik stared at me for a moment with my eyes shut. I looked radiant, Erik thought; my eyes closed and peaceful, my lips drawn in a small smile…

Erik leaned in and pressed him lips to mine. I was pleasantly surprised as he pressed against me. He wanted one last romantic moment with me, and as he placed one hand gently on the back of my head he thought about how much he loved me and how much he wished he didn't have to tell me what he had to tell me.

I have been kissed many times in my dating history. I had experienced many different kinds and heard about even more; the light peck, wet hungry kisses, the bad French kiss, the good French kiss, gentle, rough, weak, passionate…but this was unlike anything I had ever felt before. Love was the only word that came into my head. My heart pound and my knees were suddenly weak. I moved my hands up his arms and joined them behind his head. It was almost painful how much I loved his touch at that moment.

Erik wished that he never had to let go of me. He wished he could just hold me there forever; kissing me the way he was. But alas, all good things must end. Gently he pulled away from me. I opened my eyes and smiled at him,

"What was that for?" I asked, bewildered,

Erik shrugged and shook his head, "Do I need a reason?" he kissed me once again, lightly and quickly before he released me from his arms.

Still shaking slightly from the power of his touch I clumsily walked out of our bedroom behind him. Grabbing my clutch we headed down stairs. We didn't speak, but I had never felt more at peace with him. Erik was cursing himself; did he really have to give all this up? That all depended on me, he thought.

When we walked out of the building I gasped. There waiting in front was a black stretch limo.

"Oh my God!" I laughed as I saw Jackie and Rebecca pop out of the sun roof of the limo, drinks in hand,

Erik had to laugh as well as the two women beckoned us to the cab, "Come on honey!" Rebecca yelled at me, "Cosmopolitans wait for no man!"

"Alright wait wait!" I yelled, taking the small digital camera Erik had given me as a Christmas present once we had returned to New York City. It was tiny and a perfect fit for my purse. I pulled it out and snapped a shot of the two of them before Erik and I ran to join them.

Inside the cab already were Jackie and Rebecca and their respective dates Brent and Jerry. Quick introductions were made and more drinks were poured. The limo pulled away and we were off to get Susan. Greg had met her at her building; I hoped everything was going well between them, but it was hard to think anything might be going wrong. The ride to Susan's was a big blur of laughter and dress complements and drinks. Even Erik was having a good time.

At Susan's, things were going well. Earlier in the week Susan had called Greg to go over the details of the night. The plan was for Greg to come over to her apartment half an hour before we were going to pick her up. Susan reasoned that this would give her a chance to feel him out a little before the ball.

When he had arrived, there had been an instant attraction. Susan's plan to feel him out turned into letting him feel her up. When it was time for us to get them, neither of them wanted to leave the apartment and they showed up downstairs a bit disheveled and with messed hair.

We were having a very good time. I don't think I have ever laughed so hard or smiled so much, and I didn't even know what I was laughing or smiling about. When we arrived out in front of the Met there was quite a line waiting to drop of their contents of celebrities, society girls, and other rich, well dressed guests.

"Wow there are a lot of people," Susan said as she looked out the window,

"Well what did you expect; this is _the_ party of the year!" Jackie exclaimed. And she was right. The Costume Institute Ball was a charity event, but it was no ordinary hundred dollar a plate dinner; tickets started at 5, 000 and went up from there. Hollywood celebrities, rich socialites, famous designers and dignitaries were the ones who made the guest list of only 700 people.

Finally we pulled up and got out. It was like being in a fantasy world; all around me sparkled the elite of New York City, Hollywood, Paris and London. Flash bulbs were going off everywhere as the media tried to catch a glimpse of what everyone was wearing.

I smiled broadly as we walked toward the entrance of the party. Around me I saw the faces of people I recognized but I never thought I would see in real life. We tried not to act star struck as we saw people like Heidi Klum, Nicole Kidman, Marc Jacobs, Harvey Weinstein, and Prince and Princess D'Arenberg. Everyone was there. Even someone Erik knew.

As we walked slowly toward the entrance Erik had to keep reminding himself that he had nothing to worry about as cameras flashed all around him; he was not deformed. The whole thing was making him uneasy just the same and he hoped he didn't do anything embarrassing. He was just thinking that he was way out of his league when someone called his name.

"Erik!" It was his boss, Richard Mont. Smiling happily he came over to his favorite employee. Erik had quickly risen in his favor after brilliant design and effeminacy had brought in a multitude of new clients, "I didn't know you were coming to this!"

"Mr. Mont!" Erik was happy to see a familiar face,

"We're not at work, call me Richard," He smiled as he walked over to us,

Erik was impressed; the boss having you call him by his first name was always a good thing, "Richard, this is my fiancée Olivia Moss," He placed a hand lightly on the small of my back. I turned and smiled brightly at him; I really wanted to make a good impression as this was Erik's boss.

"Richard Mont," he said taking my hand, "Now what is a beautiful girl like you doing with this guy?" he cocked his head in Erik's direction and laughed.

"Aw he's not that bad," I said, taking a step toward Erik and putting my arm around him.

"Yeah he's a good guy," Mont said laughingly, "I just like to give him a hard time," Someone from the press line called out to Mont,

"Richard! Who are they!" the man was motioning toward us; Richard Mont was a well known business figure in New York and it was no surprise that his name would be known. Before I knew what was happening, Mont yelled back, "Erik Duval; he's the best architect I have! And this is his lovely fiancée Olivia Moss!" suddenly twenty flash bulbs went off in our faces. "You watch him!" Mont cried smiling, "Erik will have his name on all the buildings in the city before he's through!"

Erik felt like he was caught in a whirl pool. He reacted like a deer in headlights as all the cameras went off. "Just smile darling," I whispered to him as I squeezed his hand. On my command he smiled casually though he felt like running away from all the bright lights. Erik was relieved when Brad Pitt walked by and all the cameras focused on him.

"Oh my God Olivia," Rebecca grabbed my hand, "That's _Brad_ _Pitt_!"

"I know!" I tried to keep my excitement at bay because my fiancé was standing next to me and I didn't want him to get jealous. Still, he noticed,

"Who is that?" he asked me,

"Brad Pitt," I muttered,

Erik looked over at the man surrounded by cameras and various other people of high class Hollywood, "Do you think he's handsome?"

"Erik!" I cried and shook my head, "Not now!"

"You do think he's handsome!"

"Erik…"

"I bet I could take him," Erik surveyed him glaring,

I laughed and took Erik by the hand. We followed Jackie, who had helped in planning and knew exactly where we were supposed to go. Once we entered the party area we were absolutely stunned. It was beautifully decorated; gardenias and white table clothes and lavish silver wear and stage were all magnificent. The whole place was decorated to look like an elegant French garden. Erik couldn't shake the feeling that this would have been exactly what the de Changy gardens would have looked like.

In a whirl of color and sparkling gowns and laughing people we found our table. The chairs were the beautiful green slatted kind found by the fountains in the Luxembourg Gardens. The table clothes were made of Belgian linen.

"This is incredible Jackie," Susan said, "We are so close up!" we were very close to the stage, and nothing was blocking our sight line, which was not the case for some other people who were not so rich or famous.

"It really is Jackie," Rebecca added, beaming at her friend as she sat down,

"To Jackie!" I raised my glass and toasted her,

"I did help with some of the preparations," Jackie smiled around at the fruits of her fashion labor. As an editor at VOGUE, she had worked closely with people at the Met to get the ball off the ground.

First there was cocktail hour which ended when four trumpets signaled the start of dinner.

The dinner was fabulous. Jackie told us all that the menu had come from the Ritz in Paris. It was an elegant French style meal; lamb, vegetables and for dessert dark-chocolate cake with a white chocolate camellia.

But it wasn't the food that made it fabulous. It was the company. Everybody just seemed to fit; nobodies personality's clashed, nobody felt awkward. We talked, we joked, and Rebecca pointed out that you could see some woman's underwear. Amid all the celebrities, rich business men, and New York Socialites, there was no one I would have rather sat with.

After the dinner it was on to dancing. Normally everyone would have been a lot more reserved. However, we had been drinking the finest wine all night and we were all a bit more than relaxed. As Erik spun me around on the dance floor, he forgot where he was and who he was surrounded by. For once he just felt like a normal guy enjoying himself, at the most extravagant event of the season, with his friends and his fiancé.

Attending the Ball meant you had officially made it as an important person on New York City social radar. That night we achieved that feet; most people there knew Jackie and congratulated her for being a part of planning the event of the season. Quite a few people had heard of Erik as well; without knowing it he had garnered quite a reputation among rich people who had money to spend on lavish houses and other investments for being innovative and genius. Numerous times he had been approached regarding a design. Even one of the directors at the Met asked him if he would be interested in possibly creating and executing the theme of the ball the next year.

I was very proud of him for all this, and it was even better to see him handle it with such humble good humor. He proudly introduced me to everyone he met. It was the same each time. They would smile brightly and then ask me what I did; artist, designer, aspiring actress, model? None of them guessed that I was a lawyer. Each time this was revealed I was met with shock; most telling me that their lawyer on retainer was an old man with gray hair.

None more so than one of Jackie's superiors at VOGUE, André Leon Talley, when Jackie introduced him to us.

"You really do have fabulous friends Jackie dear," Talley said after being introduced to all of us, "I like them; they all have their own quirks…especially the couple, the French architect and the lawyer fashion plate, very chic…make sure they get photographed, I want them in the magazine,"

All of this future fame did not even register to us. What did were other funnier events of the here and now. Rebecca flirted with one of the male models for Chanel because Jerry was flirting with a socialite. I was standing waiting for Erik to bring back the drinks he had gone to fetch when Jackie came running up to me,

"You will never guess what just happened to me!" she squealed,

"What?" I asked her excitedly,

"Well…I was just in the bathroom, and you will never guess who asked me to lend her a tampon!" She was practically bubbling over,

"Who!" I yelled,

"SARA JESSICA PARKER!" she cried,

"NO WAY!" we loved SJP; she was on this show, Sex and the City, which we absolutely loved. Sometimes people drew parallels between the four of us and the girls on the show. I never saw the connection, but I was flattered that people thought that. "Aw, you always get to led the best people tampons,"

"It was incredible," Jackie sighed, blissfully scanning the magnificent even she had helped plan and was now enjoying so much, "Oh my God," she laughed, "Is that Susan making out over there?" Sure enough it was. Though most people never wanted this night to end, for some it was not over soon enough. At that moment Erik returned with out drinks.

"Oh good you got them," I said, taking the drinks from him,

"That's not all I got," he handed me a napkin on which was written a number, "I was talking to this girl while I was getting drinks…she gave me her number,"

"Who was she?" I asked, deciding to reserve judgment about being angry or not depending on who it was,

"She said her name was Adriana Lima,"

"Oh my God; was she tall, exotic looking with like…blue green eyes?" I asked him,

"Yeah…that was her; don't worry your eyes are much more beautiful," Erik added quickly.

"Oh my God…a really hot supermodel wants to sleep with my fiancé…that's awesome," I laughed up at him, "Do you know what that means? It means you are like…astoundingly sexy!" I kissed him quickly on the cheek, "But I am ripping up this number," I added, tearing the napkin in half and throwing the pieces away.

Erik laughed at me, "Don't worry darling! She was hideously ugly compared to you!"

"Aww, sweetie," I cooed, and at this point Jackie excused herself in search of Brent.

"Just like you think Brad Pitt is ugly compared to me, right?" Erik pressed,

"Ahh…I wouldn't say _ugly_…" I teased him,

"Alright," Erik said in mock exasperation, "I'm going to find the supermodel," he started to walk away,

"Ok! You win! He's ugly!" I said, grabbing him by the hand. In one smooth movement Erik tightened his grip on my hand and twirled me toward him. I was surprised and caught off balance so I nearly fell into his chest, something I was sure he planned on happening.

"Shall we dance Mademoiselle?" he whispered in my ear in French; a language I was coming to understand more and more of as Erik tried to teach me.

"Oui," I laughed as he spun me around again.

It was a wonderful night. It was a shame it had to end.

When the limo dropped us off at our building we were all so tired and happy. Rebecca had traded Jerry for the model, and Jackie and Brent appeared to be on the road to a happy relationship. Susan and Greg looked happy to, and no one doubted that Greg would be spending the night with Susan. We said good night to them all and the limo pulled away.

"God that was amazing," I sighed, "Did you have a good time darling?" I asked Erik, so tired he was practically supporting my entire weight.

"Yes," he said, and for the first time all night he felt nervous. Now was the time, now he had to tell me, "But I have a surprise for you Olivia,"

"What is it?" I asked,

Erik stepped to the curb and got a cab; in any other city but New York this would have been hard at this time of night, but here it was simple enough. "Come on," Erik motioned for me to get in the cab.

I was so tired but I got in the cab anyway. I heard Erik mutter an address to the driver before I fell asleep against his shoulder. When felt like seconds later he gently woke me and said that we were there. We got out of the cab and Erik led me to an unfinished building.

"Erik, what are we doing?" I asked curiously,

"Just follow me," he said mysteriously as he unlocked the building and dismantled the security system by entering the proper code.

"It this safe?" I asked him as we walked into the darkened building.

"Yes, it's fine," Erik said, leading me to the elevator. We went all the way up and when we reached the top floor Erik led me down a hall and up a set of stairs. He opened the door at the top and to my surprise; we ended up on the roof.

"Oh Erik!" My fatigue disappeared as I saw the beautiful view of all the New York City lights below. I walked to the edge and leaned on the barrier separating me from a long fall, "It's beautiful up here!"

Erik took off his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders, "I'm glad you like it…I know it is no Empire State Building…"

I turned to him and shock, "You remembered…the first night we met, when we went to the top of the Empire State Building!"

"Yes I do remember," Erik said with a slight smile, "I believe I lent you my coat then to, and thank God I did because I believe that it led to our relationship," I realized that in a round about way he was right. I had gone to return his coat; slipped my wallet inside his pocket by accident, which had let to a kind of second date which had ended in our sleeping together.

I nuzzled against him, not just for warmth but because I loved him as well. Erik wrapped his arm around me. I thought back to the time when we had stood on the Empire State Building. It was almost exactly a year ago that it happened. I shook my head. If someone had told me that day that I would fall madly in love with Erik I would have laughed at them.

"This is how I was going to propose to you Olivia," He said suddenly, "I remember you saying that that was how you wanted to be proposed to, on top of the Empire State Building…I know this is not it but this is one I designed, I thought you might like to see the view from the top,"

"Oh Erik!" I cried, "You really are the best man there is!" I turned to him and made to kiss him but to my surprise he pulled away,

"No I'm not Olivia," He said. He sighed heavily. Now more than ever he just wanted to forget about telling me the truth and take me home. He wanted to love me and live happily ever after. But he had to; he felt he had to tell me the truth. Lying to me and hiding that part of his life from me was too much to bear and he knew he could not spend a lifetime this way. He just wished he didn't have to.

For one last time he looked at me. He wanted to remember what I looked like when I was not angry with him. He tried to memorize exactly how my eyes looked when they looked on him with love.

I was getting worried, "Erik please, you are scaring me…just tell me what you are thinking,"

Here we go, Erik thought, "Olivia I'm not from here,"

"I know, you are from France,"

He swallowed, "Yes, but France in 1881,"

There was silence on the roof top. I shook my head, "What is this joke about Erik?" I asked him, my voice shaking.

"I'm not joking Olivia, I whish I was!" he stepped toward me, taking my hands, "I am from 1881; I used to live under an Opera House. Christine, the girl I fell in love with, was a dancer I turned into a singer. I knew she did not love me but I tried to make her stay with me…no one ever would because of my face and I was so lonely! What I told you about my mother and father was true. I was so lonely and miserable Olivia; I threatened people, I created plots to keep Christine with me. In the end I realized I had acted so wrongly, and I had angered so many people…I was running from them and I tripped. The next thing I knew, I woke up in New York City…"

I stared at him, disbelievingly; had he said he was from 1881? My mind buzzed.

"And then I met you and you are the most wonderful person I have ever known! You gave me love!" Erik looked at me and he saw the horror in my eyes as he spoke.

"Are you trying to tell me Erik, that you are from 1881?" I asked quietly,

"Yes," he said, gripping my hands tighter,

"And you expect me to believe that you were magically transported through time to New York!" I yelled, yanking my hands away.

"Yes…Olivia please…it's the truth!" He pleaded with me, watching my eyes and noting that the look of love had been replaced by hurt and rage.

"Oh my God," I started to shake and tears ran down my eyes, "You're mad!" I shrieked and then I ran. I threw his coat off me. I heard him coming after me but I beat him to the elevator and hit the button for the ground floor and then the close doors button before he reached me.

I was sobbing now by the time I got a cab to take me home. Why? Why just when I had thought I could not be happier and I had finally found a man who was romantic and sweet and smart and funny, he turned out to be crazy. I should have known better I thought as I trudged up the stairs to my apartment. I collapsed on my bed, not bothering to take off my dress or my shoes.

Why did he have to think he was from 1881? Why had I been so stupid as to believe he was perfect! I had trusted him; I had thought he was different from all the other men in the city. I had thought he was better. And he was mad. I had fallen in love with a madman.

Erik was completely devastated. He had told himself that I would react that way, but some how he had thought that deep down I would not. I hated him, he thought. I hated him and I would make him leave me forever. There would be no wedding, no happy ending. Though he was rich and handsome, he had never felt more like poor, unhappy Erik. He had nothing because he had lost me. Damn it! He growled as he reached our front door.

He opened it and came into out apartment. He could hear me crying in the bedroom and he could not stand the sound. Why did this have to be so hard all the time? Why couldn't he just be in love and happy?

In the room I cried myself to sleep. I hated everything and everyone. The man I had built up as so wonderful and so perfect was insane.

Erik slept on the sofa with Sammy by his side. He felt his heart had never been hurt worse, and he only had himself to blame. And if I could not handle the truth, what woman could? And what did that matter anyway he thought. He would never love again.

When I woke the next morning I did not open my eyes. I sighed to myself. Yes, Erik was mad because he believed he was from the past, but I still loved him. I decided that whatever mental illness he was in the throws of I would stay with him. Even if it meant that we could not be a normal couple and he would need extensive treatment; even if it meant that I would lose him before his time and his mind and sense completely deteriorated, I would stay with him. I loved him and that was it. Taking a deep breath I prepared to go tell him I was sorry and I still wanted to be his wife. I opened my eyes, and then I screamed. I wasn't in my apartment anymore. I wasn't in New York anymore. I wasn't in 2005 anymore.


	25. American Girl in Paris part une

American Girl In Paris Part Une

A/N: yeah it's a Gerik kinda Erik and for anyone who wants to see Olivia's dress again go to www. verawang. com/ dresses/ cocktail and her dress is number 17! I had a lot of fun picking it out…and finding out all that stuff about the Met Ball…its all true by the way; the decorations and what they eat are all what they actually had at the real life Met Ball!

I found myself in a bed that I had never seen before in a room I did not recognize. It was finely furnished but dark and there was a heavy felling of gloom and creeping silence; as though I was miles from the rest of society.

My first thoughts were those of panic. Had I slept with the window open and been kidnapped? Was I living the urban ledged? Was my kidney or liver on a table in this place somewhere?

Was I drugged? Hurt? Could I move? Where was Erik? Had he brought me here?

I craned my neck around to take in the rest of the room. There was a man standing by the door who I had never seen before and I screamed bloody murder.

"Don't bother Mademoiselle, we are far below the ground and no one can hear you," He spoke with a heavy accent which I could not place. He lit another lamp in the room and I could see him fully. He wore the dress of a gypsy.

I leapt off the bed and onto my feet, backing away from him though I did not know where I would go from there. I was trapped. For the first time I realized that I was holding my clutch, but there was nothing in there that would help me against this man.

"There is no reason to be afraid, I won't hurt you," he said. He spoke in a very businesslike tone; as though he was one of my clients and we were discussing contract loopholes, "I have all the time in the world but very little patience so I think we should get down to business,"

My mouth was dry. Nothing made sense, "W-who are you?" I asked, trying to keep the fear out of my voice.

He smiled. His teeth were less yellowed than I would have thought. "Why? If I tell you my name or anything about me would you know me?"

He had a strange way of talking. My mind was buzzing and I had a hard time making sense of him. I had a hard time making sense of anything at all.

"Would you like to know what you are doing here and what I am doing here?" He asked when I did not say anything,

"Yes," I said. My mind was calculating every possible situation. If he attacked me, if he tried to rape me; suddenly I remembered I had a lighter in my clutch and I slowly moved my hands to retrieve it. I kept my eyes locked on his the whole time. He had very strange eyes; they seemed to be all colors at once: black, dark blue, green, brown…he was a very odd man.

"I am here to give you a choice; you may stay here and marry Erik, or you may go home and never see him again,"

I was stunned. How did this man know Erik…and what the hell was he talking about?

"You are confused! Well Olivia I don't blame you. Even a smart lawyer like you needs more information to make the proper choice,"

"H-how did you know-?" I gaped,

"How did I know your name? And your job?" I nodded, "That is a good question. I see the shock is wearing off, you are thinking logically; that's important. You will need to keep your head for this," Again I had no idea what he was talking about.

He began pacing around the room, one hand in his pocket, "As you recall last night your fiancé told you a little fact about his life that you found hard to believe. He told you he was from 1881," I stared at him in fascination, "And you called him mad? Is that true?" I nodded slowly.

He stopped pacing and shook his head, "You should have believed him,"

"But it doesn't make sense," I said. I was still thinking of the lighter in my hand and wondering when I would have to use it.

"It only doesn't make sense only because you have never heard anything like it before; I am sure you felt like you had just been told that world was round,"

I was more confused than ever, "But the world is round," I said,

"Yes it is. And this is 1882," He said, smiling at me.

A strange tingling was raising the hair on the back of my neck. Who was this man and what was he going to do? Had Erik set this up to get me to believe him?

"Here is what you must decide Olivia; this is 1882, one year after Erik left France for the future. He is not mad, well no more than the rest of us. You did not believe in the man you truly loved, so now this is your choice. You may stay here in the past; give up your old life and all your friends and family. And you may stay with Erik," He paused,

"Or, you may go back to New York, to your own time. You will not remember any of this happened, and you will not remember Erik,"

I stared at him for a long moment. My fear turned to anger. "No," I said defiantly, "I would have to be crazy to answer you! For all I know I am in some creepy apartment in New York! Listen who ever you are," I took several aggressive steps toward him, "I had a very bad night last night and I need to see Erik; so if you know where he is you should tell me, and if you know nothing, which I suspect is the case, than you should let me pass. If you do I won't press charges, and believe me; I know every lawyer and every judge in the city, you don't want me to press charges," I hissed at him. My eyes burned and I tried to seem as imposing as I could. I was a New Yorker after all; I had even worked as an ADA for a few years, I was no wimp.

The man just laughed at me, "You see, you are fiery! You don't let people push you around! I knew Erik would like you! But believe me you are in 1882…but you are right; you deserve some proof. Follow me please," and with that he spun on his heel and walked out.

I stood rooted to the spot. He confused me at every turn. When I realized he was not coming back and I was just standing in a room, which was no help, I followed him.

The rest of the house was just as well furnished, and just as dark and unsettling. I followed the man out of the little home and I saw why it was so gloomy. We were not outside; we were in a cave or catacombs of some sort. It was breathtaking in a frightening sort of way. The caves stretched out in a grand expanse; each twisting rock formation mirrored in the calm waters of a lake.

"What is this place?" I wondered aloud,

"This? This was Erik's home before he met you," the man responded. He appeared to be not at all ill at easy in this oppressing mysterious place. "Now if you will step into the boat," he motioned to the small craft marred on the shore of the lake,

"You are joking if you think I am getting in that boat with you," I said, backing up toward the house.

"Olivia, think logically! If you don't come with me where will you go? You don't know any way out of here, and if you stay here no one will come for you,"

"You said this used to be Erik's home; he will return here," I said quickly,

"How do you know? How do you even know that this is really Erik's home? Unless you believe what I tell you, which you don't. Think logically Olivia! If you believe me when I say this is Erik's house, than you should also believe me when I tell you this is 1882. If you don't believe me when I tell you this is 1882, than you should also not believe me when I say that this was Erik's house. If it was not his house, then he will not come here and you are stuck here with no way to get out,"

Damn him for having a point. I was not sure what I believed, but I got in the boat. The man rowed across the lake. I am very familiar with water; my cousin had a house on the lake and I had been there every summer when I was growing up. However, this water frightened me. I could not shake the feeling that there was something lurking just below the surface. I was glad when the little boat reached the opposite side and I jumped out.

He led me through a tunnel. Very soon the light from the cave vanished. The man did not seem to need light to find where we were going, but I took out my lighter and sparked it for my benefit. Not that the small orb of light that is offered did me much good.

The walk through the tunnel was not easy. I kept tripping on the uneven ground. My three inch heals did not bode well with the floor of the tunnel.

"Where are we going?" I asked him,

"Up" he said simply.

For the hundredth time I wondered what in hell was going on. Someone was playing a very cruel, elaborate joke on me and it was wearing thin. I hoped that when we reached where ever we were going Erik and all my friends would jump out and yell surprise. However the more we walked the more I realized that this was probably not going to happen. The cave, the lake, it was too much to be a joke. So what conclusion could I come to? I still could not believe what this man insisted was the truth.

It took a long time before the man stopped; our time made longer by the fact that I kept tripping and having to stop and rest my feet. Suddenly there was a wave of light as the man opened some kind of door. To my complete surprise we stepped into a lavishly decorated dressing room. True enough, the décor did appear to have that 1800's flair. I looked around in wonder, turning completely around in a circle to take in the full view of the room. I realized that what the man had opened was not a door; it was a passage behind a mirror.

"What is this Clue?" I muttered,

"I guess that would make me Wadsworth?" The man said with a smile. I shook my head,

"If this is 1882 than how do you know about the movie Clue?" I narrowed my eyes and used my best cross examination voice,

"I said that this was 1882, I did not say that I was from 1882,"

"Than why are you dressed that way?" I pressed,

"Why are _you_ dressed that way?"

"That's not an answer,"

"I am afraid that is all I can say, now if you will look over here please…" the man moved to the side of the room and drew back a set of curtains.

I looked out the window in disbelief. I took several quick steps toward it and threw the pain open, leaning out of it and letting the wind hit me.

There below me were the streets of Paris. All around me were buildings that I knew where not modern. On the streets trolley cars ambled by. People were walking everywhere, not paying any mind to the new automobiles and rail cars as they could be outrun by most anyone. Here and there horse and buggy's pulled passengers.

There was no denying it; it was 1882.

I slowly turned around to face the man.

"You believe me now?" he asked; my throat felt too tight for me to speak so I just nodded. "So what is your answer?" he said, "Or do you want me to review your choices? Stay here and marry the man you love or go back and forget him,"

My eyes filled with tears. What an awful choice! To stay here and give up everything; my job, my friends, my family…but I would get to be with Erik. Or to go back and forget about him…could I really do that? I had seen most of the men in New York, and none were good. What were the odds I would find another man like Erik? I hadn't realized I was crying until the thought of being with a man other than Erik made me sob.

What could I do? Choose love and stay or chose my own life and go home? It was impossible.

"Please hurry Olivia; I have all the time in the world but very little patience,"

"I-I'll stay here," I spoke in a voice just above a whisper. All thoughts of pride and strength were gone. I felt like my life had been ripped from me. Erik was all I was clinging to.

"Good Olivia, you made the right choice,"

I knew I had. It had taken me a lifetime to find someone I wanted to share my every waking moment with; and I couldn't have him in New York. I had to give it up. But that still did not mean it wasn't hard. I buried my face in my hands and wept shamelessly.

"Erik will find you in a week's time,"

"What am I supposed to do until then?" I asked, looking up. And to my horror he was gone.

"Hey!" I cried. I hadn't even heard the door open! I ran to the window and looked out. Paris was still there, and so was a long drop so I knew he had not jumped. He must have gone back down the tunnel. As much as I didn't want to set foot in that dark space again I went through the mirror,

"Hey!" I called out loudly, "Hello!"

Behind me I heard the door of the room open. He must have come back. "Where the hell did you go?" I asked as I walked back down the tunnel and out of the mirror. But I wasn't looking at the man anymore. A woman with chestnut brown hair had entered the room now. I noted that she was dressed in a very lavish corset gown and looking at me as though she had seen a ghost.

Erik did not want to open his eyes that morning either. He felt like he had right after the car accident; crushed and broken and heartsick. For ten minutes he lay, lids shut, trying to think of what to say to me to make me love him again.

Why did it have to be this way? He cursed bitterly under his breath. Why hadn't I loved him enough to believe him? He hadn't even gotten a chance to explain himself before I ran away. He sighed. Now was as good a time as ever to start trying to get back in my favor. Erik opened his eyes.

"I see you are well my friend,"

"Holy shit!" Erik jumped up from the sofa where he had been laying on his back in shock, "What the hell are you doing here!"

"This is my home," Erik's only friend from the past, Nadir, spoke,

Erik looked around him; sure enough he was in the daroga's modest apartment. Erik felt like the world had suddenly started to spin much faster in its axis.

"I think you have some explaining to do old friend; you disappear for a year and then a man brings you to my home, passed out drunk, and says you requested to be brought here!" he sounded mildly angry, "What plot are you mixed up in this time?"

Erik was not listening. He had just caught sight of himself in the mirror. Where just the night before his face had been perfect now the mask rested on one side. Standing and walking closer to the mirror he spoke slowly, "What year is it daroga?"

Now the Persian was truly worried about the mental health of his friend. He was sure that he had spent the last year brooding in dark solitude where his genius but twisted mind had finally begun to addle. "It is 1882," he said in a low voice,

1882. Erik's stomach curled. If he was in 1882 than were was I? "Have you seen a girl daroga? Her name is Olivia,"

Dear God another girl. The Persian shuttered. What horrors had passed between his odd friend and the fairer sex this time? It made sense to him now. Again he must have captured a girl, finally letting her go and in the process braking his already weak soul all over again. And he had come here to confess and apologize...

"No Erik,"

Erik shuttered. Was I here? Was I in New York? Did I still hate him?

"Please daroga…could you get me some water?" the Persian raised his eyebrows.

"Don't you think you had better explain yourself Erik?"

"Please, I will tell you everything after I have some water,"

With a sigh Nadir left the room to get some water for his strange friend. Erik was not thirsty at all. Thinking quickly, he had realized that Nadir would think he was crazy just as I had when he told his confusing story. But he wanted to tell someone. He needed to know what to do. There was one thing he could offer as proof.

Carefully, fearing what he would see, Erik lifted the mask from the side of his face. He had wanted the Persian out of the room for this in case he was once again deformed. Erik closed his eyes before he looked in the mirror; preparing himself to see the twisted red bumps and drooping eyelid. When he opened his eyes, he could have cried out with relief. His face was red in places, but only where the mask had been rubbing against it. The surgery had not been undone; he was not deformed.

Nadir came back into the room and Erik let the mask fall back into place. He would save the big reveal until after he had explained everything.

"Alright this has gone on long enough Erik," Nadir said, "I have your water," he set the glass down on the table and sat in a chair opposite the sofa, "Now tell me what has brought you back here,"

Erik sat down heavily on the sofa and picked up the water. When he had requested it it had just been a way of getting the Persian out of the room but now he realized how dry his throat was. Erik downed the whole glass in several large gulps. Finally he set his glass down and sighed, looking at the floor.

"Erik?" Nadir coaxed,

"You are not going to believe me when I tell you this daroga," Erik said darkly, lifting his eyes to look straight at him,

"With you Erik I expect the unexpected,"

Erik laughed mirthlessly, "Alright…you want the truth? I have been in New York,"

"America?" the daroga considered, "That is not so unbelievable…I would imagine a man of your talents would do well there,"

"Oh yes, I did do well there," Erik said, "I had a job as an architect; I was becoming the best in the city. And I was engaged…" Erik suddenly felt his heart break. _Was_ engaged. How could he do this? How could he go on without me? And not even without me in the sense that I would not marry him, but without me in that I was a whole world away! Erik was sure that he had been sent back to his own time as punishment for not making me love him enough.

The Persian stared somberly at his friend. So there had been a girl. Some poor soul no doubt, who had had no choice but to tie herself to this man he saw before him.

"What happened?" The daroga pressed,

"What happened!" Erik shook his head, "I told her the truth! That is what happened!"

Ahh, the Persian understood. He had showed her his face.

"And she ran from you?" Nadir said,

"She thought I was mad," Erik said, "But not for the reason you think daroga…you see I was not in New York in 1881, I was in New York 2005. I was in the future,"

The Persian stared at him for a moment. So, he had finally gone round the bend. He had lost his mind completely.

"You think I am mad to, don't you?" Erik asked, a humorless smile spreading across his face,

"Erik…are you still drunk?"

"Ha!" Erik bit out a laugh, "Tell me daroga, do you remember how hideous I am beneath this mask?" the daroga nodded, "You remember that this face alone has the power to strike such fear and repulsion into anyone that it could stop their heart?" again the daroga nodded. "And do you remember how much pain my forced solitude has caused me?"

"Yes," the Persian said in a low voice,

"And you know that there is nothing I could do to change my appearance?"

"Of course," The Persian knew that nothing could save his friend from the fate his face condemned him to,

"Alright," Erik reached up and took off his mask. Even before seeing his face the daroga looked away, "It's alright, you can look at me," Erik said, and when his friend still did not turn to face him he shouted, "Damn it Nadir! Look at me!"

Slowly he looked up at the face of his friend. "What on earth…" Nadir stared at Erik. His face…it was perfect. Not a single scar or lump of skin.

"How is this possible?" he asked stunned,

"I told you…in the future they have ways of fixing these things," They have a lot in the future they don't have now, Erik thought. Showers, computers, TV's, cell phones; not to mention the dog and the woman he loved.

"Erik…I just can't believe it!" Nadir stared at his friend as though he had suddenly grown another Armani clad arm.

"Believe it daroga," Erik said heavily, "I think I was given a second chance to start my life again, and as usual I failed…I couldn't get her to believe me," He shook his head and his eyes suddenly felt wet. He looked down at the floor again so his friend would not see his emotion.

Across from him Nadir know he should avert his eyes; no one liked to be watched while they cry. However he found he could not take his eyes off the now perfect face of his friend. What had happened? He could believe that Erik had gone to New York City, but what of his face? The future? Was that really possible? He knew that where his friend was concerned it was best to expect the unexpected, even the unreal, but this was past the normal even for Erik.

And then the dark thought came into his head; had Erik become another Faustus? Had he made a deal with the devil he had felt so close to for so long? He knew that Erik would do anything to get a woman to love him; lie, threat, anything…what had he done this time?

Erik knew Nadir did not believe him, even after he had seen his face. But he didn't care. Nadir had already answered the only question he had had. I was not there, and he had not seen me. Of course his next question was where was I? But he knew Nadir could not answer that question.

No one could.

There were several moments of awkward silence where Erik tried to control himself. It was hard to do; he hadn't even gotten to say goodbye to me. And he knew he would miss everything about the city; the tall buildings, the restaurants, the people…

There was a knock at the door and Nadir went to answer it. In his absence Erik completely broke down. When he heard footsteps coming back toward him he quickly forced himself to stop crying and dried his eyes.

To his surprise, Nadir found that the man at the door was the same man who had brought Erik to his door in the early hours of the morning. Good, he thought, maybe now he could get some real answers.

"Your back," Nadir said to the man who was dressed as a gypsy,

"Yes, I need to speak to Erik," He spoke with a casual tone,

"Are you a friend of his?" Nadir asked as he let the man inside and began to lead him to where Erik was,

"I am a friend and a foe to all men," He said,

Nadir grunted. He couldn't shake the mysterious feeling he got from this man although nothing about him was outwardly odd.

Erik looked up as they entered. He did not recognize the man following Nadir into the room. They both sat down. Nadir waited expectedly for his friend to introduce him to the man. Erik waited for Nadir to do the same.

The man smiled, "Erik, I have all the time in the world but I want to spend very little here. As a New Yorker I am sure you are used to fast pace. Olivia has gotten you two half way home. The rest is up to you,"

Erik leaned forward. He didn't understand this man at all but he had mentioned the words 'Olivia' and 'home' and these where the two most important things to him so he listened.

"You don't follow me do you?" the man smiled, "Neither did Olivia at first. Let me explain. You and Olivia were both brought back here. You should have explained yourself better and she should have listened. She has already done her part to fix this mess; she had proven how much she loves you,"

"How?" Erik asked before he could stop himself. Already his heart felt so much lighter simply by hearing that I was in the same time as him.

The man sighed, "She had a choice; stay here with you or go back to 2005 without you. She chose to stay,"

Erik blinked. That was the best news he had heard all morning. And yet…he couldn't let her do that! Give up her whole life to stay here just for him?

"No," Erik said, "You can't let her stay here; she had a life in New York. She has to go back," As much as these worse pained him he knew this was the right thing to do.

The man laughed, "Erik your love for her is touching but this is no time to be stupid. Listen to me! You are half way home thanks to her. Had she chosen to go back none of this could have happened. But she did the right thing. Now, if you will be quiet, I will tell you what you have to do to get back home,"

"Wait," Nadir interrupted, "Are you saying that he-?"

"He was in the future, he is engaged to a woman named Olivia, and before I waste another minute I would like to tell him what he has to do," The man spoke.

"Good, are we all listening?" the man asked when no one had said anything, "Good. Erik, your enemy is having problems. Help him, and in a week you may take Olivia and go back to New York in 2005,"

Erik still did not understand, "I have a lot of enemies and I am not very helpful…what do I do?"

"Erik!" the man's voice was suddenly harsh, "Olivia was willing to give up her entire life to be with you so you might give up your pride to be with her; you know who I mean by enemy and you will find out what I mean by help."

Erik nodded. He knew exactly who he meant by enemy. He had no idea what he meant by help, but he would find out. The man was right. He had just been thinking that he would do anything to get things back to the way they were, and this was anything. Although he had been envisioning some from of torture, which he thought would be preferable to what he would have to do.

"Where do I find him?" Erik asked,

"Good question! He is not at his home. I believe he is staying with his sister. But at this time of day you would find him in the Navy offices,"

"I forgot he was in the Navy," Erik muttered. Suddenly Nadir knew who they were talking about,

"Oh no, you can't be suggesting he get involved with him again! The poor boy has been though enough!"

"That was then, this is now; Erik has changed a great deal…he has no reason to be afraid of him," the man said calmly,

Erik realized how true this was. The boy would not recognize him, he thought as he looked down at the mask in his hands. And then he wondered, "Why was I wearing this when you brought me here?" he asked the man.

The man sighed, "Think logically Erik! If I had brought you to your friend's house and told you him who you were, and he saw your face, do you think he would have believed it was really you?"

Erik grunted.

"Alright then here are the rules; you help your former enemy. For a week you do not see Olivia. If, in the end, I deem that you have done enough, I will send both of you home,"

"Where you will leave us alone?" Erik asked,

The man smiled, "I will be there, but you won't see me,"

Erik did not understand what he meant, but he guessed it was meant as a yes. The man stood and made to leave;

"Wait!" Erik cried, "Can you tell me where Olivia is? I swear I will not go and find her, I just want to know that she is safe,"

The man smiled, "She is safe,"

I didn't feel safe. The woman took one look at me coming out of the mirror and damn it if she didn't faint.

"This is ridiculous," I muttered. My sadness and fear were now gone. The man did not attack me and in a week I would be with Erik again. The only emotion I had now was anger. Damn stupid situation.

I looked at the still form of the girl lying on the floor. I shook my head in disgust. I did not have time for this! And then it occurred to me; I had no where to go. I moved to her side. It was the nice thing to do to try to wake her up, though I had no idea how I was supposed to do that.

"Hey," I said, shaking her shoulder, "Wake up!"

I shook her for awhile before her eyes fluttered open. She looked around dazed for a moment before she looked up at me. Her eyes widened, "Who _are_ you?" her voice sounded almost fearful,

"The Easter Bunny," I said dryly,

"What?" the girl looked as though she almost believed me,

"Adriana Lima," I said sarcastically,

"That's a pretty name," I was going to correct her but then I thought what the hell? Let's throw caution to the wind,

"Thank you," I said, helping her to her feet,

"What were you doing…back there?" She motioned fearfully to the mirror,

"I don't know," I said; which was the truth. I still did not know who that man had been or where I had been. Erik's old house he had said…

"I didn't think it would still be there. They rebuilt a lot after the fire, I guess the tunnel did not get destroyed," she spoke in a low voice, her tone a mix of fear and sadness. But she had sparked my interests.

"So you have been down the tunnel?" I asked her, my eyebrows raised.

"Yes," Her eyes widened further and the fear became more evident in her voice.

"Whose house is that down there?" I asked her,

She had been looking at the gaping passage behind the mirror but at this question she turned to face me, "_He_ lived down there," she dark brown eyes were shining with emotion.

"He who?" I asked. God it was impossible to get a straight answer from her!

"The Angel…the phantom…"

I rolled my eyes. This was getting ridiculous. "_Who_?" I asked again.

"He had a name…Erik…that was the only name he ever told me," She whispered,

Erik. So this girl knew Erik. What were the odds of that? Further more, that had been Erik's house that I had woken up in. I shuttered as I thought of Erik living all alone down there…he had told me he had been so lonely…

I shook my head, "Do many people know that is down there?" I asked.

"No," she said shakily, "Almost no one knows,"

I nodded. Between this girl, the man, and what Erik had told me I was getting a vague idea. Erik must have been lonely and shunned, because of his face. In 1881 he was a freak where in 2005 he was a victim of genetics, only an operation away from normal. So that was why he had never gotten an operation before; it hadn't been invented yet. I looked at the girl next to me,

"What's your name?" She was speaking French and so was I. Thank God Erik had been teaching me.

"Christine de Chagny," She said. Christine; that was the name Erik had said. So this was the woman who had broken his heart.

I nodded, "He mentioned you," I eyed her darkly,

"He is alive? You spoke with him?" She seemed shocked, and she backed away from the mirror a few steps more.

"Yes…" I said, but I didn't know if I wanted to tell her I was engaged to him. She seemed like she was wound pretty tight already. Telling her I was marring him might just have pushed her over the edge.

"How did you escape him?" she asked,

"I didn't have to escape him," I said coolly; this woman really was odd. I hoped that everyone I met here would be as damn insane.

"He let you go?" I suddenly got the feeling that this girl and I were talking on completely different wavelengths. I didn't understand her and she clearly did not understand me. I decided to go for a different approach.

"Ok," I said, moving in front of her, blocking her view of the mirror; I think just seeing it was too much for her, "You and I clearly have a lot to talk about," There was no doubt in my mind that this girl and I were supposed to talk. She was probably the one who knew Erik best after me. From what little I knew about Erik's life here I garnered that he did not have many friends. It was probably no coincidence that she had walked in while I was in here, "Why don't we…do you have a house?"

Christine thought miserably of her opulent mansion which was empty since her husband had stormed out one day after a fight and since then it had been empty except for the servants. She nodded.

"I think we should go there…to talk," I said in the same voice I might have used to instruct a five year old how to tie a shoe lace. I took her arm and guided her out of the room.

She followed like one in a dream. When I got out into the hall I realized I did not know where I was going. "How do you get out of this place? And where the hell are we?" I asked.

"Wow…he really did hypnotize you didn't he?" Christine asked, a sympathetic look in her eyes, "He does that…so you will stay with him,"

"Yeah…" I said slowly. I feared we were going back to the bad place where neither of us really knew what the other was talking about, "Why don't we just focus on getting out of here," Suddenly I realized I had been speaking English, not French.

"Please, my English is not very good," Christine apologized, "What did you say?"

Great, I thought. Not only did I have to work to decipher her French, she hardly understood English! This was going to be hell…

"Sorry," I said in French, "Let's go," I motioned for Christine to lead.

I followed her though the building. The place was huge, decorated in a rococo

style; everything was lavish and overdone. When we came to the end of the hallway the place opened up into a wide hall with a grand staircase and marble floors. I rolled my eyes at the giant statutes of naked women.

"So what is this place?" I knew my phrasing was not quite right but Christine understood,

"This is the newly rebuilt Paris Opera," She said, and it was hard to tell if she was excited or merely exhausted by this idea. As we approached the staircase I had the most wicked desire to slide down the banister.

I hated this. For all I knew I was stuck forever in a world of tight corsets and being treated like an idiot because I was a woman. God I was angry.

We walked out of the Opera House and I saw the streets for the first time up close. They were crowded and the smell of horse crap was unmistakable.

"What are you wearing?" Christine asked me as she led me to a fancy looking carriage,

I snorted. I supposed my Vera Wang cocktail dress was not like anything she had ever seen before. In fact, I knew from some of the stares I was getting even for the short time we were on the street that my dress was downright scandalous.

"This is a very stylish cocktail dress," I said proudly; no one but no one was going to insult my fashion sense.

"It's so short!"

"This is nothing, I have dresses that are much shorter than this," I said as we got in the carriage.

"Are you a…prostitute?" she asked me,

I glared at her. How could Erik have ever been interested in this little thing? She seemed so childlike, so fragile, so stupid; so unlike me. The moment I looked at her she recoiled.

"Please don't look at me like that; you look like _him_ when you look like that," Christine remembered the infuriated gaze of her teacher and how it had frightened her.

I inwardly shrugged. I assumed that by him she meant Erik. I suppose it made sense that there were similarities between the two of us; when you were around someone so much you tend to adopt the things they do. I did not stop staring at her,

"I am not a prostitute," I said coldly, "I am from New York City; it's not my fault if Paris is behind in fashion," I decided this would be a better thing to say at the moment then "This is what they wear in the future,"

We said nothing else to each other for the rest of the ride. Christine was at a loss. She did not know what to make of me. All she knew what that I knew who Erik was, and that he was alive. She didn't know how to feel about that information. A year ago when she had left him, she had thought that he did not have the strength to live much longer. What had kept him alive? Was he still obsessed with the thought of her?

And who was I? Why was I dressed so strangely? Why was she taking me to her house? Well, that she knew the answer to that. Board out of her mind with her dull life, and lonely because she had no friends in her new position, she wanted something to do and someone to talk to.

We arrived at out destination.

With all he had come to expect from his friend, Nadir had never expected this. They were walking along the street in broad daylight. Erik was not terribly familiar with the streets of Paris, and he had no idea where the Navy offices might be. Nadir had agreed to take him there.

Erik walking along still dressed in the tuxedo from the night before and wearing his long, black coat. His hands were deep in his pockets and he was staring curiously at the people on the streets. He realized he had never seen this time of day in Paris. It seemed odd that he, the former Phantom, was walking around like any other man.

But not exactly like any other man. He was dressed differently that everyone else. True he was in a tux, but even that could seem less formal among all the other period dress. And he did walk differently; he walked like a New Yorker. Out of the corner of his eye Nadir watched him. He did appear very changed; he was more confident. No, not confident, he had always had confidence. He was not on edge anymore; he was not out of his mind anymore. He didn't even blink when two girls giggled at him as he passed. Nadir noticed that there was something strange in his eyes, a strange gleam.

"Well," Nadir said ten minutes later, "This is the place," they had stopped in front of a large blue building. Nadir turned somberly to his friend, "What are you going to say Erik?"

Erik shrugged helplessly, looking at the building as though he were looking upon his own doom, "I have no idea, I don't even know where to start,"

"This mission is impossible Erik," Nadir said darkly,

"Ha," Erik gave a hollow laugh, "_Mission_ _Impossible_," he thought of when we had watched that movie together and how funny he thought the exploding stick of gum was,

"What about this is funny Erik?" Nadir asked bewildered,

"Nothing," Erik murmured. He sighed, "Well, here I go," he walked into the building.

"Good luck!" Nadir called after him. "You'll need it," he said quietly as he took one last look up and down the street, turning and making sure one of those damn horseless carriages, or automobiles, was not about to run him over. He hated those things and was sure they would never catch on.

We walked into the grand mansion; the doors were opened for us by the well dressed carriage driver. Christine ushered me into a drawing room and then stopped short, shocked. I was not the only surprise visitor she would have that day. Sitting in her beautiful house were the two very cross looking sisters of Raoul de Chagny.

"It is about time you returned Christine; you should not be at that Opera House; Raoul was right to forbid you to go," One of them spoke in a quick, harsh voice,

"Now sit down, we have something important to discuss with you," the other one said in just as ugly a tone.

Christine sat like a scolded child. Her eyes were lowered to the ground and she folded her hands in her lap. She did not bother to introduce me, or maybe she just forgot. In any case the two snobbish sisters raked their eyes disapprovingly over me and instantly judged me as not worth their time.

"Christine I will be blunt; Raoul is going to divorce you," One of them said.

They might as well have said that Raoul was going to behead her for the way she reacted. She screamed out in shock and immediately started crying.

"Oh stop blubbering; you knew that it could not last. You are of different classes! He is nobility and you are…a stage person," she said 'stage person' the same way I would have said 'slut.' She handed Christine some papers. "Just sign and be done with it. Go back to that beloved Opera House. You will have to leave this house…" Christine sobbed even louder.

I sympathized with the poor girl. A divorce was not an easy thing. I wanted to help her if I could. Not just for her sake but also she would be no use to me if she was wrapped up in her own issues. Carefully I took the papers from her and read them over. It was difficult as it was all in French.

"Just who are you?" One of the sisters asked me,

"Adriana Lima," I said shortly, not looking up from the papers I was reading,

"Well what do you think you are doing?" she asked crossly,

Deciding to give up on reading the whole thing, I decided to look from something else. I checked over the papers in my hand,

"I don't see the name Raoul de Chagny signed anywhere on these papers," I said sternly. I reached back in my memory to the time when I had been an ADA and used to question scum accused of murder. I also spoke in English to give me the advantage. I knew that these women considered themselves well educated and would speak the tongue well enough, but not as good as I. And I knew they would never admit it.

"Well…" One of the sisters began, and though she tried to hide it she sounded awkward.

"So I am going to assume that he has not signed these papers yet," I began to pace the floor up and down.

"Listen here…" one of the sisters started angrily,

"You know this is awfully nice of you to volunteer to come down here and ask your brother's wife for a divorce for him…he does know you came here doesn't he?"

The two women sputtered but neither of them said anything that sounded like real words.

"I see. So you came down here and talked to my client under false pretenses; claiming that you represented Monsieur de Chagny's wishes when you have in fact never received instruction from him to approach his wife!" I dramatically threw the papers into the drawing room fire, receiving enraged cries from both the sisters.

"If Monsieur de Chagny or anyone with any semblance of actually legal weight wishes to file divorce papers against Christine then we will look at them seriously. However until then, we are finished here,"

"Now you listen to me!" One of the sisters stood and came to face me, "It's _Vicomte_ de Chagny! And I will not be told what to do by some…_hussy_ my brother's wife has foolishly befriended!"

We glared at each other. My hands on my hips I refused to back down, "I am not a _hussy_! _I_ am a New Yorker!" I said dramatically, "And you are trespassing; if you don't leave we will have to call the police,"

The two women stared and sputtered for a few moments before one of them spoke, "You think you're clever, don't you Christine," She was speaking in French now and her narrowed eyes shifted to Christine's tear stained face, "But you can not hang on; we will see to it that you leave this family," With that the two women left, throwing angry, repulsed looks at both of us.

When they left Christine began to cry again.

"Don't worry," I said simply, "They can try all they want but they will never succeeded; I know more about legal systems, even this one, than they do about being bitches and that's saying something," I sat down on the sofa.

Christine seemed comforted by these words because she stopped crying a little, "How do you know so much?"

"I'm a lawyer," I said, "But I think we should talk about something else; tell me everything you know about Erik,"

"Do you think my husband is going to divorce me?" she asked distractedly,

I sighed and smiled, realizing that until she was comforted she would be no help to me, "No, I don't; those women came here today with out talking to him. I am sure this is not what he wanted,"

"Yes," Christine seemed heartened, "Yes you are right; we love each other," she whipped her wet eyes slowly and tried to force a smile, "Thank you, for doing that," she added.

"You could re pay me for it by telling me what you know about Erik,"

Her face darkened slightly and she began, "It is a long story…"

I sat in her drawing room as she told me of his deception, his obsession, and his plots. His mood swings, his sadness, his mother. It was a hard story to hear. To think that my fiancé had been so in love with the woman before me it had made him mad. That no one would talk to him because of his face. That he was forced to live in that place underground…

Some things I already knew; that his mother had abandoned him. But I had not known that she had not even named him, and that she had never even told him her name. I wished more than ever that at that moment I could have had Erik next to me, to tell him I loved him.

I guess it should have worried me more, to find out all the things that Erik had once done. But it didn't. I realized I did not know the Erik Christine spoke of. He had never been this way with me. Of course I had never tried to refuse him, but still. He had always respected me. I had demanded it. If he did not than I never would have loved him. But I did love him. Christine story only made me cry; it did not change the way I felt about Erik.

Erik walked into the building, softly humming the theme music from _Mission_ _Impossible_. He still had no idea how he was going to do this. He knew he only had one shot to convince the boy to talk to him.

He spotted what reminded him of the front desk his office. Fingers crossed, he walked up to the young man wearing glasses and a Navy uniform. He looked up from his desk as Erik approached,

"I need to speak to Raoul de Chagny," he said and then waited, trying to seem nonchalant although he could feel his palms sweating,

"He is not seeing people today," the young man said, looking back down at the papers on top of his desk,

Erik thought quickly, "He will see me, this is about the…well, you know. We are not really supposed to talk about it,"

The young man looked confusedly up at Erik; perfect, Erik thought. "Maybe you don't know about it, the information is highly confidential, you probably aren't high enough in the chain of command to know about it…"

"Yes I am," the young man said, not wanting to seem unimportant, "I just…didn't know if you knew about it…"

Erik laughed, "Just tell me where he is, alright?"

"Down the hall and up the stairs, first door on the right,"

Erik began to walk down the hall toward the stairs. Well, he had gotten past the first obstacle, he thought. But the hard part was still to come. He had no idea what he was going to say, or how he could get the boy to reveal to him what he needed help with. He trudged up the stairs. The door came into view. With one deep breath, he knocked.

"I'm busy!" a voice called. Erik shuttered. He had hoped he would never have to hear that voice again. But here he was.

"It's important!" Erik called through the thick oak door, "It's about the thing!" he didn't know what else to say,

There was silence for a moment. Then Erik heard footsteps behind the door and he stepped back as it opened. There is was, Raoul de Chagny. The man Erik had hated because he had everything and Erik had nothing. Erik now realized that was no longer true. Now he just hated the boy because his stupid problem stood between him and me and home.

"What thing are you talking about?" He asked in a slightly angry voice Erik had not known he had possessed. "And who are you?" He looked at Erik suspiciously, "You look familiar,"

Erik thought quickly. Although now he looked different, half of his face was still the same. Thinking that the name 'Erik' would bring bad thoughts into the boys head, Erik said,

"Brad Pitt," Why not? He thought amusedly to himself, "I came all the way from New York,"

Raoul considered for a moment. He still had no idea who Erik was, but he did know that New York was fast becoming a very important city. And as he did not want to seem as though he was not on top of his game in front of the confidant, well dressed man before him he let Erik in.

Erik was surprised to see that Raoul was in a fairly small office. His at Mont Building was bigger, Erik thought. In fact, he was surprised to see him in an office at all. He had expected that the boy would be sitting in his lavish home enjoying his wife and his fortune. What Erik did not know was that the de Chagny fortune was not enough anymore. The middle class composed of wealthy business men and some professionals like doctors and lawyers was emerging. Suddenly, Raoul was the one forced to keep up with the Jones's. And to do that he needed some sort of job.

"So…" Raoul tried to appear relaxed, but something about this Brad Pitt man unsettled him. He gave off a very confident aura; the fact that he was from New York bothered him to. He knew that when it cam to industry and wealth and modern ingenuity New York City was the leader. Worse, this man was talking about something he didn't know about. He did not want to appear foolish in front of him. Maybe he would try to get him to talk about something else for awhile… "You're from New York City?"

"Best city on the planet," Erik said smoothly. He could tell that he had Raoul on the run. Erik sat down in the chair in front of the desk.

"I've…never been," Raoul admitted,

"You should go," Erik said, wondering but not caring why he was beating around the bush, "Great place to take your wife…kids…" Maybe he was having problems at home, Erik thought, though he could not imagine how the couple he had seen happily run away together could be floundering,

"Ah…my wife," one of the main reasons Raoul had been working more lately was so he could stop thinking about his wife. He didn't understand her anymore. He did everything for her, but it just seemed to anger her. And when he insisted that they not attend the upcoming opening of the Opera House because of the scandal the year before, she had flown off the handle. Sometimes he thought it would have been easier to marry inside his own class; he knew that none of the other women possessing a title gave their husbands this kind of trouble.

Erik sat up straighter in interest; so maybe this did have something to do with Christine… "Having trouble there?" Erik asked,

"Ah…you know women…are you married?"

Erik shook his head, "Engaged,"

Raoul smiled, "That was the best part; and then right after the wedding. But then…" He shook his head, "things change,"

Erik tried to seem not too eager as he spoke, not wanting to push Raoul too far. But Erik sensed he was nearing his goal and this was difficult to do. Erik let out what he hoped was a good natured laugh, "You're scaring me now; what changes?"

Raoul sighed. He supposed he had been wanting to speak to someone who was not his sisters or his sisters husband's about this; but he had no one. He didn't really like anyone else in his class. Odd, he thought sometimes. He was fighting to fit in with people he didn't like.

"Christine is just…she doesn't fit in with…" Raoul suddenly stopped. He couldn't tell all this to a complete stranger. "Well never mind, she just is always angry with me,"

Erik tried not to feel to crestfallen. Raoul had not admitted everything, but it was a start.

"I guess we had better get down to business," Raoul said uncomfortably, "What do you need from me Monsieur Pitt?"

"Well," Erik said, "Uhh…ships," Erik's mind spun. What was he going to come up with? It seemed to him that he spoke before he thought, "Building ships,"

"I…I really don't…" Raoul began,

"No wait," Erik said, thinking of a pitch that would not result in him getting thrown out and asked not to come back, "Since Trafalgar _Britain_ has rules the oceans," he remembered me telling him that. He had not really cared at the time but since I seemed interested he had listened. Now he thanked my zeal for history, "But is doesn't half to be that way; I've come up with a design that will leave the British Navy miles behind,"

Raoul was interested. He really was not the right person to see about this but it sounded new and cutting edge. This was just what he was looking for. A way to gain a reputation as a modern elite. Being responsible for the extreme betterment of the French Navy seemed like the perfect way to attain the social status he desired; a nobleman but also a shrew businessman. But he had some questions;

"Why France and not Britain?"

"I like the French better. I myself was borne here before I moved to New York City,"

"Why not sell your design to the American Navy?"

"I did; but they bought the design, not the rights to the design; I can give you the same opportunity, and I suggest you take it,"

"May I see the designs?"

Erik cocked his head, "You didn't receive a delivery earlier today?" Raoul shook his head, "Damn it," Erik muttered, "I only got here yesterday and I had other business to tend to. I haired a currier to deliver the blueprints here…they never came?"

Raoul shook his head no.

"Damn. Listen, let me get this all straightened out and I'll come back tomorrow," he leaned forward, "I cannot express just how beneficial this opportunity is to you; you will be looked at as the hero of the French Navy," Raoul certainly liked the sound of that.

Raoul stood and shook Erik's hand, "It's been a pleasure Monsieur Pitt,"

"I'll come back. Tomorrow. You will be here tomorrow?"

"Yes; can't go home," Raoul said, a hint of sadness in his voice.

Erik saw another opportunity, "Why not?"

"The wife; we got in a big fight after I told her she could not go to this Opera opening,"

Erik winced, "Maybe you should just talk to her," he suggested lamely, not knowing how he was going to help, "Tomorrow then," and he turned and left.

It was dark by the time Christine finished her story. She watched me as I wiped tears from my eyes.

"Will you tell me now how _you_ know Erik?" Christine asked me,

I sighed, "We are engaged,"

The color drained from Christine face, "Oh no…"

"No, it's not like that…like it was with you," I corrected her, "He never forced me to do anything…I love him," I said honestly,

"Are…are you sure? He has the power to hypnotize…to control you without you knowing it," Christine said.

"No…he's changed. He doesn't hide underground anymore, he never tried to trick me into anything…he doesn't lie…" which was not true. He had lied to me about the most important fact about him. But I understood that. He had probably believed I would react just the way I had. I had thought he was mad and now look where we were…

Christine stared at me, "Be careful Adriana; he can be dangerous,"

I shook my head, "Not with me,"

Christine sighed, looking out the window, "My God it's gotten late!" she exclaimed when she saw it was dark out, "I suppose you want to go home,"

"To tell you the truth I don't have anywhere to go," I admitted,

"Where is Erik now?" She asked me,

"I don't know. He is coming for me in a week," I said sadly.

"That sounds like the old Erik; strange disappearances," Christine eyed me.

"Please," I said to her, "I helped you, and I'll help again if you need me. I swear you could not find someone in the whole city who can advise you like I can. Just let me stay here. Just for the rest of the week,"

Christine accepted my plea. There was plenty of room and she was lonely. She also knew I would be good to have around if the sisters returned.

That night I was tucked into the large, four poster bed in the guest room. I was wearing a barrowed nightdress that I thought made me look foolish. I sat in the bed with my knees drawn up to my chest and my eyes wide open in the dark.

I had never missed Erik more. My heart actually hurt. I didn't know where he was, and I was stuck in this strange house. With no hope of sleep I lit a candle with my lighter, which I had not shown Christine, and headed back to the drawing room. I shivered as I walked threw the dark house and my feet were cold on the bear wood floors. I was glad when I reached the drawing room with its soft carpet. I struggled for a moment to get the fire going again and eventually I succeeded.

I saw my target. The piano I had seen earlier. I sat on the bench and lifter the cover of the keys. Softly I rested my hands on the ivory which seemed to glow slightly in the dim firelight.

Erik loved the piano. I had bought him one just after Christmas. It was a baby grand piano and it was way too big for our apartment but I loved how happy it made him. Even with the cast he played. I used to sit next to him. He had taught me some things. I gently let my fingers touch the keys in the order of the notes he had taught me to form a song.

God I missed him. I missed the way he smiled, I missed his wit. Most of all I missed the feel of his arms around me, the sensation of his lips against mine. I closed my eyes and thought of when he had kissed me right before we had left for the Ball. It had been so wonderful…and now I didn't even know where he was.

I started to cry.

_A/N: sorry this took awhile to get up but I have been away…in NEW YORK CITY! I was there for new years and I felt very Olivia…we walked down Madison Ave but nothing embarrassing happened…and we went past the Plaza Hotel which is under construction now…which I knew but in my story its not! I was so fun…and we walked past Tiffany's and Bergdorf Goodman's where Olivia shops! 5th Ave is sooo great! Ne way I hope you like this chapter and I am sorry about the underline thing in the pervious chapter…that was weird…ne way happy new year guys! _


	26. American Girl in Paris part deux

American Girl in Paris part deux

"Usually I have to cry all night alone," I heard Christine's voice behind me and I turned around. She was holding a shirt in her hand and she looked just as tired and upset as I felt.

She did not know what to make of me. She was a little scared by the fact that I was involved with Erik, that everything I did seemed so odd. But I had helped her. And I did not appear crazy. I had said Erik had changed, and maybe that was true. Although, the man she remembered had seemed so broken, so desperate when she had left him. She didn't see how it could be true.

"You're not sleeping either?" I asked,

"Not since Raoul left," She held up the shirt in her hands, "This was his favorite shirt. Usually I come down here, wrap his shirt around me, and feel completely miserable,"

"That's pathetic," I said wanly, and I returned my gaze to the piano in front of me, "Erik loves the piano,"

"I remember," Christine said in a slightly distant voice. I shuttered a little; Erik had once loved this woman and given her everything and she broke his heart. I was mad at her, but she was all I had. I had no money and nowhere else to go until Erik came for me. Miserably I wondered what he was doing.

My thoughts were too many and too painful. I needed a brake, "I see only one thing to do. Do you have a wine cellar?"

Thirty minutes later we were sitting on her sofa drinking out of the most ornate crystal goblets I had ever seen, the bottle of wine between us.

"You know, I never wanted to be this way," I said, "I never wanted to be one of those girls who missed her fiancé so much she couldn't _sleep_. I always thought it was so pathetic. And here I am; pathetic." I drained my glass and poured myself another.

"It is not pathetic," Christine assured me, "Ever since Raoul left I can't sleep. I can't eat," She shook her head and finished her glass, "It's terrible. I miss," she giggled, "I miss when we used to sleep together, and he would wrap his arms around me and hold me all night long," she closed her eyes and smiled.

I laughed, "You don't realize how used you get to sleeping with someone until they are not there anymore,"

"I know! God…" Christine shook her head and smiled, drinking more of the white wine. "So how did you meet Erik anyway?" She asked me,

"He moved into my building," I said with a wide smile, remembering better days.

"What do you mean? He moved into your house?"

"No…I live in an apartment complex; lots of apartments together. He moved into the one next to mine,"

"You live all alone?"

"Yeah," I raised my eyebrows at her,

"You do things so differently in New York! Did you like him right away?" Christine smiled from ear to ear. It had been a long time since she had had any real girl talk. She had been cooped up in the giant house most of the time alone. At parties people did not talk much to her, and they certainly never talked about men and relationships.

"Uhh…not the first time a saw him. But then we spent the afternoon together. After that I was interested," I had never admitted it to anyone; even to myself, because I had thought it had been so stupid. But after our first encounter, when I had used him to get away from that other guy, I had liked him.

"So what did you do?" Christine's eyes were alight with excited energy and she turned so she was sitting facing me,

"Well, toward the end of the night he gave me his coat because I was cold,"

"That's so gentlemanly!" Christine could hardly believe that I was talking with such genuine affection about _Erik_.

"I know right?" I smiled, "So when I gave it back to him I put my wallet in his coat pocket so that he would have to come and give it back to me," Susan had been right all along; I had meant to slip Erik that wallet.

"That is so clever!" Christine exclaimed, pouring more wine into her glass, "I never would have thought of that!"

I laughed, "Anyway the next night he brought me my wallet, and then we walked around a little…" I started to laugh harder when I remembered what came next, "So that night I…" I smiled scandalously.

"You what? You kissed him?" Christine asked eagerly.

I laughed. "Not quite," I leaned in closer to her and whispered, "I had sex with him,"

Christine gasped, shocked, and I poured myself more wine.

"After you only knew him for a day!" She looked both horrified and amused,

"Technically it was our second date," I laughed.

"Still…his face! And you only knew him for _two_ days!" Christine stammered,

"So? You know what they say, everyone looks the same in the dark," I was laughing very hard, I think I was a little drunk, "But they don't move the same. And _believe_ me he was wonderful!"

"Really?" She started to laugh as well, "I didn't think he had much…experience,"

"I know!" I smiled, "He didn't! But I never knew that until he told me! He's good…" I sighed, "And then he got up and started to leave. I didn't want him to go though, and I was so happy when he said he would stay," I closed my eyes as I remembered how content I had been to sleep in his arms.

"You know, I had to talk Raoul into sharing a bed with me," Christine said suddenly.

"What do you mean? He didn't want to have sex with you?" Uh oh was he gay?

"No! He wanted to do that…but afterward he wanted to go back to his room. He said that a husband and wife only share a bed to make love. They have separate rooms," Christine looked down at her wine glass and she looked like she was going to cry but she tried to hide it with a smile.

"I convinced him to share a room though," Christine said, and it was now clear that she was crying, "But he gets so wrapped up in tradition! Sometimes I think he cares more about what others think than our happiness!" she stared to cry harder, "Why is he acting this way!"

I embraced her and let her cry on my shoulder, "Don't worry, men suck," Christine laughed, "He will come around," I said, "And in the mean time, I think we need more wine!"

Erik was not having a good night. He spent hours trying to remember the design for the USS Arizona he had come across in one of my history books on one of those long days when his leg had been in a cast.

He had managed to successfully recreate most of it from memory and then fill in the rest. The problem of course being that Erik was sure the proper technology for building this thing was not yet fully developed. Erik had reasoned that he could move things along a bit though. After all, he would not really have to build the thing; it was only a way to talk to the boy.

Exhausted Erik slipped into a fitful sleep on the Persian's sofa. He dreamed of the car accident of all things. He remembered feeling just as he felt now right before the crash. He had finally realized how foolishly he had acted. He realized that no one loved him like I did. With a jerk in his sleep he remembered walking in to see Mark Berry kissing me. He realized he should have killed the man for assaulting me. Erik promised himself that if he ever got back to the future, he would give Mark what he had coming.

Erik remembered how he hoped that if he begged and pleaded I would take him back. Then he remembered knowing the cab was out of control. He remembered the twisting knot of fright as the cab skidded. In his sleep he shivered. And then, impact. Erik remembered searing pain. He thought he might have screamed. And then nothing.

And then the dream. Erik remembered the dream. He had been back at the opera, at a party. No one had looked at him oddly; he had found me in the crowd. It wasn't a dream, Erik realized. It was a preview. He had seen it! The boy and his former obsession Christine; they had been together. Happy. So it was possible. And I had been there. I would be there.

But that was all he had of the dream. Then he remembered hearing my voice, opening his eyes and seeing my face. The relief was overwhelming. To know I was there, that I cared for him. It had been too good to be true, after all the stupid things he had done. I had taken him back gladly. I let him move into my home permanently. I cared for his every need and nestled against him at night as though _I _needed _him_.

Erik's eyes shot open. More than anything he wished he could tell me how he felt and thank me for all I had done for him. He wished he could say he loved me. His arms ached to hold me again.

But I was not there. He had hoped somehow that when he opened his eyes I would be there and it would all be a bad dream. But I was not there. He had no idea where I was.

Knowing he would find no sleep that night, Erik lit several candles and went back to his design.

By morning Christine and I were, not drunk, but our inhibitions were safely tucked away. At four AM she wound the phonograph and I spent the next hour teaching her the dance from the finale of Chicago. I forgot parts of it, so we made up new parts.

It didn't fit the music we were listening to but it didn't seem to matter. I remember falling down a few times. By five o'clock we had the thing down.

To some it might have seemed odd that I chose to get drunk with my fiancés ex love obsession in 1882. But if I told Rebecca, or Susan, or Jackie, or Andy they would have understood. It was how I dealt with life when it got too crazy. I just had a little fun.

When the servants of the house woke and started to go about their daily business one of the young maids was surprised to hear music coming from the drawing room. She peaked through the door. Shocked she turned to her friend and motioned for her to come and see. The lady of the house was acting rather odd!

By seven I was experiencing a familiar feeling; when I was single I would stay out all night going from bar to bar, club to club, with the girls. The feeling of giddiness mixed with alcohol and then extreme exhaustion was not one I missed. However, it did make me feel a little better when, at eight in the morning, I fell into bed alone. It was like being single again, only at the edge of my mind I never forgot that I had given up the modern city for Erik. I knew it was the right choice, and I knew it was my fault. I should have believed him; if I had we would not be in this mess. Heavy hearted I slept at last.

The Persian woke up to the smell of breakfast. Brooding and unable to sleep, design finished, Erik had raided the ice box and found eggs to cook.

Nadir walked into his kitchen and amusedly took in the sight of his friend, the man he had once known to live in reclusive darkness, prepare the morning meal.

"Why Erik! What a good housewife you will make!"

"Ha ha funny man," Erik was not amused, "Sit down and shut up or it's no food for you,"

"Erik, I think you are missing your apron," The Persian teased him.

"I hope you aren't hungry then," Erik said angrily, taking all the eggs off the stove and placing them on a plate.

"I was only joking my friend! I did not know you even knew how to cook," It had always seemed to Nadir that when Erik ate at all it was a simple meal with basically no preparation required.

"I never did before," Erik admitted, glaring at his friend as he grudgingly took out another plate and put some of the eggs on it for his friend. "Olivia taught me,"

Nadir poked at the eggs with his fork. He flicked his eyes up to meet his friend's. "Olivia seems to have taught you a lot,"

"Everything I am I owe to her," Erik said without a thought, hungrily eating his eggs.

"She must really love you Erik, to put up with all that you were…" Nadir remembered his friends tendencies toward madness, obsession, even murder.

"I'm different around her," Erik said, shaking his head, "I don't act the way I used to; I'm not crazy daroga,"

"I believe you my friend," the Persian said quickly, "I can see it in your eyes; you used to be quite frightening. I thought you were going to let the boy die,"

"I never meant for it to go that far," Erik said in a low voice. Suddenly he was not hungry anymore. "It was not my intention for anyone to get hurt. I just wanted someone, something, so badly! I never thought…" Erik shook his head, "I never wanted it to happen that way. Believe me daroga…" Erik didn't know what else to say.

"I know; they were bad times Erik. You were trapped, desperate. You did terrible things but Fate seems to have given you a second chance. Olivia sounds wonderful," Nadir looked kindly at his friend.

"She is; I hope you get the chance to meet her," Erik said, and the Persian watched a light come into his friend's eyes. "She is nothing like Christine; she is smart, and witty, and she is absolutely beautiful," Erik suddenly remembered, "Wait," Erik took his wallet out of his back pocket. Mostly everything in it was worthless; the credit cards, cash…but he kept something else in it…

"Look, this is a picture of her," It had been taken at the New Years party we had gone to. It showed me from the waist up; I was laughing at something Jackie said. Erik stood behind me with his arm around me and his chin rested ever so slightly on the top of my head.

Nadir took the picture. It was the strangest he had ever seen, but he assumed it was from the future and that was why it did not look like the ones he was used to.

"She's beautiful Erik," Nadir meant it. The girl in the picture with the wide smile and shining blond hair and green blue eyes, not to mention the plunging neckline, was one of the most attractive women he had seen in some time. The Persian thought it was natural beauty; that I was borne with it, but it was Maybelline.

He was also relieved to see a picture of us together. The body language was clear between the two, Nadir thought; I was not being forced to do anything. I was happy, and so was Erik. Something about his eyes, Nadir thought…

"You were looking down her dress! Weren't you!" Nadir suddenly yelled, half reprimanding half amusedly at his friend.

Erik laughed. His appetite had returned after looking at the picture of the two of us together. "So what? It's not as though she minds,"

"She doesn't mind that you don't treat her like a lady? That you gawk at her?"

"Firstly I do treat her like a lady. I open doors and pull out chairs, but Olivia doesn't really like that. She lets me do these things, but she likes to be independent. Secondly, I was not gawking; I was merely appreciating her form,"

"Form! Ha! You were staring at her you wicked old man!" Nadir laughed.

"Well…it's not as though I haven't…seen her," Erik said, and his friend leaned in closer.

"You mean…you have…?" He didn't know how to say it delicately.

"Had sex with her?" New York does not make you shy.

"You have then?" Nadir's eyes opened wider, "Even though you are not married?"

Erik laughed, "Nobody does that anymore,"

"Really?" Nadir raised his eyebrows, "Well congratulations my friend, you're a lucky man,"

Erik took the picture back and looked at it. The moment he had seen it he had taken it for himself. He loved it because we both looked so happy; he could never remember looking so happy before. Originally he had planned on placing it in a frame on his desk, but he found he wanted it with him all the time, so he stuck it in his wallet.

Erik looked up at his friend, "I'm afraid I'll fail her daroga, I'm afraid I won't be able to do what that man told me to and I will lose her,"

Nadir looked sadly at his friend. In truth he feared the same. Erik didn't know much about helping people, about giving advice.

"I can't lose her daroga," Erik shook his head and put the photograph away, "I can't go through it all over again; I'll never find another Olivia, and I wouldn't want to try,"

"Forgive me my friend, but isn't that what you said about Christine?" Nadir asked cautiously.

"I had no idea what I was doing with Christine! I didn't know what love _was_! Olivia is different. Olivia loves me! You heard what the man said! She gave up her whole life to stay here and be with me!" Erik cried.

The Persian still looked skeptical. "I don't know how much I trust that man Erik,"

"Even if he was lying, there have been other things! I tried to leave her in the beginning, because people were always staring at us and whispering because of my face. She wouldn't let me leave her! She argued with me to stay!"

"And she wanted me to go everywhere with her! She begged me to go to this wedding with her, and she brought me to meet her family, and she even…she proposed to _me_ daroga!"

At this the Persian laughed, "What? She asked _you_ to marry _her_? I thought it was supposed to be the other way around!" He smiled.

"It _is_ supposed to be the other way around! My point is that she wanted me enough to ask me to marry her," Erik sighed, "She loves me daroga, she does, and I can't…" He paused to regain his composer because he was starting to shake. What if he never saw me again? "I don't know what I would do if I lost her,"

They ate in silence for awhile.

"Well I guess I had better go," Erik said in a low voice. He picked up his designs and left the house.

It seemed like a very long walk to the Navy offices but he finally reached it. However he was in for an unpleasant surprise.

"He is not here today. He had to make a trip out to the coast," The same young man Erik had seen at the front desk the day before said, "But he left a message for you Monsieur Pitt; he's sorry for the inconvenience but is very interested in your design. He hopes you can come back tomorrow,"

Erik nodded shortly. That stupid boy! He was wasting time! Erik felt like punching his fist through a wall. But he knew that wouldn't help him. Exhausted and angry, Erik returned to the Persian's apartment and collapsed onto the sofa, sleeping at last.

I woke up with the sun shining brightly in my face. Slowly I got out of bed, stretching as I walked over to the French doors leading out to the small porch. I stepped outside; the day seemed very warm for April.

Looking out at the roof tops of the city of Paris I realized how big it was already. And somewhere, I thought, under those rooftops, was Erik. I gazed out at the city and thought about my darling Erik. I owed him a huge apology. I had called him crazy! And he was supposed to be the man I loved and trusted…I should have believed him.

Lost in my thought it was a moment before I realized someone was knocking on my door.

"Coming!" I yelled as I bound across the room and opened the door. The moment I did I laughed. Christine stood before me, and it looked like she had been hit by a truck. Her hair was messed; her eyes were bloodshot and droopy. Hangover city.

"I'm sorry," I said, trying to stifle my laughter, "Come in," I led her outside to the balcony and sat her in one of the chairs. "Wait here,"

Christine rubbed her head and blinked slowly as I went back to my clutch. I assumed the girl was not a heavy drinker, and with a thin body like hers it was not surprising that she could get drunk easier that me.

I took the clutch back out to the porch. Setting it down I rifled through it. Finally I found the Advil I had put in there before the party. I handed her a pill, "Here…this will help,"

"What is it?" she asked, looking at it suspiciously. The last time she had trusted my judgment she ended up feeling like hell.

"It's just a little medicine. It should help with that pounding headache," I said with a smile.

Christine swallowed the pill. It occurred to her that maybe she should not be so trusting of me, but her head hurt so badly! Trying to focus on something else, she turned her attention to the clutch.

"This is beautiful," she said, picking up my black Fendi evening clutch and inspecting it. Before I could stop her she looked inside and found my camera. "What's this?" she pushed a button and turned it on. "Wow," she watched at the city before her appeared on the little digital screen.

"Oh!" I bit my lip, "That's my camera…I don't think they have them like that in France,"

"How does it work?"

I supposed there was no harm in it. Christine was not incredibly smart, if I told her it was an American thing, she would believe me. "Well, to take a picture you press this button; give me the camera," I took it from her and aimed it at her and took her picture. I came and stood beside her, "And then to look at the pictures you have taken you press this one,"

She gasped as her picture appeared, "That's amazing! Wow the American's really are ahead of us in technology,"

About 125 years ahead, I thought to myself with a laugh. "And these are some of the other pictures I have taken,"

I went back to the ones of the Met Ball.

"That was the dress you were wearing yesterday!" Christine stared at the pictures, "Wow, everyone really does dress differently where you are from! Oh everyone looks beautiful!"

The next one was one of me and the girls.

"Are these your friends?" Christine asked me,

"Best friends since we came to the city; that's Rebecca and Jackie and Susan,"

Christine noted that the woman, Rebecca, had a dress that was much more revealing and scandalous than the one I had been wearing. The other two were not much less shocking. But instead of being offended she was jealous.

"You all look so happy…I don't have any friends," she said sadly,

"Oh please! You must have a friend!" It made me angry when people over acted misery begging for sympathy.

"Well I did, at the Opera House, but Raoul made me give them up. He said that it was not proper for me to be seen with them."

I rolled my eyes, "So you gave up everyone you know because he did not approve of them? What did he give up for you?"

"Nothing," she muttered quietly.

"I think you should go back to the Opera and apologize to your friends. I think it would make you feel better," I said.

"No, I can't. Raoul would be angry…" she said nervously.

"Well _Raoul_ isn't here, is he?" I wicked smile spread across my face, "Come on, we'll get dressed and go," I needed some way to blow the day. Until Erik came for me Christine could be my little project; could I take this sniveling, backwards girl and turn her into someone Gloria Steinem would be proud of? I didn't really care, but I needed something to do.

I followed Christine to her room and tried to find something in her wardrobe that was wearable. I couldn't wear my Vera Wang every day of the week. Going through all of her dresses I did not find one to wear.

There was something else though. "Oh, this is beautiful!" I pulled out a white slip that would have been considered a dress in my time. I held it up to me.

"You're not planning on just wearing that are you?" Christine asked.

"Why not?" the slip was very pretty, and God knows why, the slip was shorter than the rest of the dresses. It hung just below my mid calf.

"It's not…proper!" Christine said indignantly.

"Listen, proper and improper change! There was a time when it was improper for a woman to wear anything without a bustle! And look at how hair styles have changed! And for God's sake! These dresses are so low cut they show half of your breasts! Now damn it! I'm going to show my ankles!" I was making a stand about how much I could stand. If I was going to be stuck in 1882, than things were going to change.

I went back to my room, changing into the slip dress and putting my black heals back on. I didn't care if I did have to wear these all week; I refused to be just another girl in Paris with cheap shoes. I checked myself over in the full length mirror. The slip was a little tight; God that Christine girl was thin! And my hair was a big blond mess! Oh well, I thought as I ran a hand over it, so I would go for the bed head look. That was sexy…

A few minutes later we were walking toward the Opera House. It was a beautiful day; if we had been in New York City it would have been a perfect day to take Sammy to the park. I hoped the dog was alright, but who was feeding him now that we were gone?

That thought was too sad to so I tried to concentrate on the moment. However the moment smelled; there were horse droppings on the street along with people's garbage. I assumed that this was before the invention of sewers and regulations against pollution.

It had been my idea to walk and I was beginning to regret it. Unlike the smoothed paved streets of New York where my Manolo's were as good as any running sneaker, Paris streets were cobble stone and it was like walking an obstacle course to keep from tripping and falling.

"Your shoes are so…high!" Christine exclaimed. They were; with them on I was a quite a bit taller than Christine, who was in flats. "Isn't it difficult to walk?"

"Of course not, clearly I have been having a lot of success so far; if twisting my ankle back there was any indication," I said dryly.

Christine was taken aback by my coolness and mistook it as anger toward her. She was silent the rest of the way. I recognized the building the moment it came into view. The Paris Opera. I had a sudden jolt of remembrance; Mark had proposed to me right in front of this very building 125 years into the future.

And now I was back again. I hoped my experience here this time would be less heartbreaking, though I doubted it. I was going to have to stay here forever. There was nothing more painful than that. All I had was a promise from a strange man that I would be reunited with Erik.

As I thought about it I realized it might not be very wise to place full trust in an odd gypsy man. What if Erik was not coming? Was if I was just stranded here by some cruel twist of Fate?

Christine was having unsettling flashbacks as well. Remembering being trapped miles below the beautiful Opera House and thinking her life was over. Thinking Raoul was going to die, or she was going to be forced away from him by a monster. But now…had she been wrong? In Erik she had seen an Angel, a gift from her father, a teacher, a phantom and a ghost; never a man.

But then what of me? Christine was confused. It did not seem possible that someone as independent minded as me would be taken in as she had been. So Erik must have changed.

Christine pulled the door open and we stepped inside. I had never been happier to see marble floors which were completely devoid of horse crap.

"The stage is through there," Christine pointed, "They are probably rehearsing right now…with the opening so close,"

"Who are we looking for exactly?" I asked her.

"Meg Giry…she used to be a very good friend of mine, when we were both dancing together," Christine thought about the progression of their friendship. They had met when they were very young and had grown up together. But Christine had always kept a secret from her friend, the secret of her Angel. Eventually this secret had ripped them apart. No, Christine thought, it was not Erik; it was Raoul who had forced her to leave her friend.

They were rehearsing. We took several steps closer and the clacking made by my high heels was drown out by the sound of the orchestra. We walked into the main theater; the stage was magnificent; everything about the place was stunning, including the large chandler hanging from the ceiling.

The most amazing thing to me was that the theater had not changed; when I had visited it in the future it had looked almost exactly the same…or should I say that in the future it would look exactly the same?

Christine was hit with another wave of emotion. This time it was not overwhelming fear or sadness, it was excitement. Performing had been her passion! And now she was at the heart of it all over again.

It looked like they had just finished. Everyone was talking and the players in the pit were picking up their music off the stands and putting away their instruments. The dancers were eagerly taking off their toe shoes to ease their tired feet. One woman was removing a giant head piece which must have weighed a ton.

As we walked down the rows of seats toward the stage several people recognized Christine and began whispering to each other. They felt the Christine had betrayed them; she thought she was too good for them now that she had her husband.

Christine spotted Meg immediately. She was standing in the middle of a group of other girls and after giving her frienenemy one cold glare she ignored her completely and disappeared into the group of other dancers.

"Meg!" Christine called out uncertainly; nobody paid any attention to her, "Meg!" she tried again.

This was useless, I thought. This Meg girl had a right to be angry and she was. One of the most sacred of rules of female friendship was never abandon your girls for your man; because as hard as it is to find a good man, it is even harder to find a best friend.

You could cut the animosity on that stage with a knife. Everyone was leaving and no one was listening to my new little project as her vainly called to her friend. One of the players from the pit was leaving but I stopped him.

"Excuse me; can I use these for a moment please?" I took the symbols out of his hand and smashed them together. They made a defining crash and my arms shook from the force of them clashing together.

Everyone turned to stare at the girl in the slip with big shoes holding symbols. Handing them back to the confused looking man, I spoke in my loudest voice, "Is there a Meg Giry here?"

A tall, blond girl wearing an elaborate tutu emerged from the crowd of dancers. "What are you after Christine?" she addressed her friend and not me. It was clear by her voice that Christine was far from forgiven but this girl was willing to talk to her to make her go away.

"I just wanted to talk to you, to apologize," Christine said meekly.

Meg rolled her eyes and then they landed on me. "Who is she?" she asked.

"This is Adriana Lima," Christine said and I walked forward. I had been standing on the steps going up to the stage, but I now climbed them to the top and I heard the company begin to murmur as I stepped into the full light. No doubt they found my dress as odd as Christine had. Ironic considering their own costumes, but I guess they would not have worn them outside.

"One of your new, high class, friends Christine?" The dancer looked coldly from Christine to me.

"Actually no," I said, "If I was one of those stuffy old bags who cares more about who your great grandfather was than who you are, do you think I would be wearing _this_ dress?"

"Where are you from? Your accent isn't familiar," Meg asked me, her eyes were still narrowed.

"New York City,"

The expression on her face changed instantly. Instead of angry she looked amazed, "Really? I've heard so much about it! I met a man from New York…" her smile faded, "We had one great night together and then I never saw him again,"

I had to laugh; no matter where or when you were you could count on one thing. That a man from New York would be thinking about his next great chance for sex while you were picking out his and her towels. Wham, bam, thank you Madame.

"Men from New York are impossible," I smiled, "That's why my fiancé is French,"

"Oh! Is that what brings you here from the Americas?"

"That would make sense, yes,"

Everyone had stopped looking at us and gone about their business the moment they realized they were not going to see Meg ripping Christine's head off. Meg had defrosted a bit; it appeared that no matter what women could bond over men and broken hearts.

After our little defusing conversation Meg turned back to Christine, "So what are you here for?" her voice was still cool, "I'm quite busy; those of us without rich husbands who don't give up our dreams have work to do. The Opera reopens on Friday,"

"I know," Christine wrung her hands, "And everything looks wonderful! I wish I could see it…"

"You mean you are not coming to the opening?" Meg demanded, her arms crossed.

"Well, Raoul…" she began. My God this girl was hopeless! Here I was, telling her to apologize for being a pushover when it came to her husband's wishes, and here she was, still being just that.

"Umm…don't you think we could continue this conversation over lunch?" I broke in before Christine put her foot in her mouth. Not to mention I was starving.

"I don't know…does the great Christine have time for that?" Meg asked coldly.

"Meg please…" She was distraught.

"She does have time," I said quickly, "Where are we going?"

We waited for Meg to change. Her dress was somewhere between mine and Christine's in terms of appropriateness. Not quite as scandalous as mine, and not quite as conservative as Christine's.

Our destination was a middle class restaurant that Meg led us to.

"Here?" Christine eyed the place as though it were the very gates of hell.

We both turned and looked at her, "What is wrong with here?" I asked.

"Raoul doesn't…" Christine began.

"I don't care Christine, what Raoul likes and what he doesn't. If you want to talk to me you do it on my terms," Meg said, her hands on her hips, "and I happen to like this place,"

When Christine stood still and looked uncertainly at the restaurant, I lost my patience. With a sigh I hooked my arm through hers and dragged her in.

I couldn't see why Christine's husband would not approve of this place. It was not dodgy, it was clean…and it had food so I was content. I realized I had not really eaten since the Ball.

We were led to a table right by the large window looking out on the street. The host excitedly seated us and took our drink order, something I thought it was odd for the host to do. And then we all realized why.

Absolutely gushing he said, "I will bring them out right away. I hope you enjoy everything; it is such an honor to have you here Viscountess!" and then he scurried off.

Apparently although this was a nice place, it was not frequented by the very peak of French society. I watched as the host found the head waiter and whispered in his ear, nodding toward the table. The other man's eyes widened.

It was clear that Meg was not at all amused by the stir caused by her friend. She was glaring down at the elegant paper menu which had been placed before her.

I was looking at the menu to. I found I was getting better at understanding the French language, probably because it was all I heard. It was taking me a bit longer to read the menu though. Eventually though I recognized the words for chicken and duck and lamb and was able to make a choice.

It was not until after our orders had been taken by the excited head waiter that we talked.

"So, after a year of nothing, you come back and try to apologize for snubbing your best friend," Meg began, her eyes narrowed. "I want to think that it is because you have realized your mistake, but I think it has more to do with your husband leaving you,"

Christine gasped, "You know…?"

"Everyone knows he has been living with his sister," Meg said coldly.

"Oh," Christine looked down at her hands in her lap.

I looked from one girl to the other. I took a deep breath and bit my lip. This was not going to be so easy.

"So what did you have to say to me Christine?" Meg asked exasperated.

"I know I should not have stopped talking to you…but you don't understand! Raoul wouldn't let me! He said you weren't the right sort…"

"Oh Jesus," I muttered and put my head in my hands. Telling your friend that your husband thought she was beneath him was not the best way to apologize.

Both women looked at me, I looked up, "Let's just say this; Christine was caught up, trying to fit into a world of really mean…bitchy women!" I turned to Meg, "She was…confused! She didn't want to upset anyone!"

"It might be nice to hear this from her," Meg said, crossing her arms and leaning back from the table, her eyes on Christine.

"Well, say it," I said out of the side of my mouth to Christine.

"Say what?" she whispered back.

"What I just said," I shook my head slightly. It was like teaching someone to walk in heels.

Christine took a deep breath, "Meg, you know you are my best friend…and you know how much I love Raoul, and you know how badly I wanted to be with him. And it almost didn't happen! You know how scared I was! And then when we were finally able to be together…I just wanted us to be happy. You know I'm not as strong as you are…I just…" Christine sniffled, "I wanted to make it work,"

Meg shifted, "Go on,"

Christine bit her lip, trying to think of something else to say, "Raoul…his sisters; they were all telling me things. And I wanted to make Raoul happy; after all he had done for me. He almost got himself killed coming after me,"

Meg shuttered, "Yes, I do remember that awful night," she said in a low voice.

Suddenly I felt a ringing in my ears. I realized that she was talking about Erik; my Erik had almost let her fiancé die. It just didn't seem possible! The man I knew wouldn't do that. The Erik I knew was kind, loving, and funny. My Erik lent me his coat and held my hand and played with our dog…how could he be the same man who Christine was so afraid of? Who had threatened to kill her fiancé?

It hurt. It really hurt to think that Erik had been so troubled. Knowing what I did about Erik's past I had begun to follow the development of his madness. I had taken psychology in college; I knew that the easiest road to madness was abandonment and neglect. From what I could tell, Erik had been abandoned and neglected by everyone he met.

These other people in Erik's life…they could just brush him off. Here was the proof right in front of me. To Meg and Christine Erik was nothing more than an ugly problem. He was something that needed to be gotten rid of, shunned, and then they could be happy. Meanwhile Erik was left out in the cold; past from unfeeling heart to unfeeling heart without ever finding what he needed.

I suddenly felt like I was sitting with the enemy. I didn't even care that the two girls were smiling at each other. They seemed to have made up while I was thinking about my poor Erik. My eyes shifted to Christine. Her pretty smile, shining hair, slight figure…I could see how Erik would seek her acceptance, her love. And she had broken his heart. From the moment she saw him he went from angel to devil. His face had made him something she wanted to distance herself from…and she had run right into the arms of Prince Charming, even though he would take her away from everything she loved and subject her to the cruelty of his sisters and the rest of his circle.

I felt disgusted by her. With a wicked smile I realized I could destroy her if I wanted to. I had her trust, I could lead her right down the path of her own destruction…make her husband leave her, make everyone hate her…I could claim to be helping her and advise her to do things that would bring around her own devastation and she would do them without a thought.

It would be glorious, I knew. I was cunning enough to survive the legal world of 2005; I dealt regularly with people who had absolutely no soul or morals and made them do as I wished by putting them in the exact position I wanted. I could certainly bring down this simple minded girl.

Of course, my plan was no better than what Christine had done to Erik. And it didn't bring Erik to me any sooner. I decided that for the moment I would wait, bide my time. When I did see Erik again, I would ask him what he wanted. If he wanted to see this girl suffer as he had, than she would.

"Adriana?" Christine asked me and I snapped back to the conversation.

"Yes?"

"Meg just asked to see your ring,"

"Oh," I gave her my hand with the engagement ring on it.

"Oh wow!" Meg took my hand, "It's gorgeous…and it's so big! Why, it looks even bigger than Christine's!"

I looked proudly down at the ring and then over to the one Christine wore. I knew it was petty, but mine did look bigger.

"Is your fiancé nobility?" Meg asked.

"Hardly," I laughed, "He's an architect,"

"Where is he now?"

"Working," I said quickly, the lie coming off my lips before I even realized it.

"So how do you two know each other?" Meg asked Christine and me.

I responded before Christine had the chance to say something stupid, "My fiancé knows her husband. They arranged that we stay together months ago,"

Meg sighed, "But he is French, your fiancé? He's not from New York?"

I allowed myself a small smile. I couldn't help but be angry with these women for how they treated Erik, but again, for the moment they were all I had. "Yes, he was born in France, though after a year in the city I think he has probably changed," Just how much he had changed they would have to wait and see.

"Well I thought that the man I met from New York was a perfect gentleman. He was charming, and handsome, and quite wealthy I think…he promised he would write to me after the nigh we spent together…and he never did," She sighed, her expression confused and hurt.

"Wait," I said with a wry smile, "You are saying that you slept with him, after knowing him for, how long, a day?" She nodded, "And you thought he was a perfect gentleman?"

"He said he would write!"

I had to laugh, "He says he will call, he says he will write…he says he will see you again. What he means is great sex, have a nice life,"

"But I don't understand! I though we had a connection…"

It was odd; she might as well have been one of my friends, complaining about men. So, it seemed that for years, women had been wondering about the actions of the other sex, and we still hadn't figured it out. But we had made some new discoveries.

"Maybe he was just not that in to you," I said. Meg and Christine looked at me like I was speaking Japanese. "Alright, maybe he just didn't like you. It's not the end of the world,"

"But I liked him!" Meg did not seem comforted.

"But was he the best looking, most charming man you ever met?"

"Yes!"

I shrugged and looked around, "Alright but what about him?" I pointed to a man who had just sat down at a table across from us.

"Well…he looks nice," What a stupid statement, I thought after Meg said it. People didn't look nice, they look handsome or sexy. They might act nice, but you had no way of telling that from looks alone.

"So, get him to look at you," I said. As much as I disliked this girl, this could be entertaining.

"How?" entertaining and hopeless, I thought.

"Look over at him, and then when he turns to see who is watching him, look back over here," I said.

"I can't," Meg blushed.

"Oh do it!" I said, and I snuck a look at the man sitting across from us, "Oh! I think he is looking over here at you!"

"Really?" without another thought she looked over at the man. Their eyes met and then they both quickly looked away.

"Fine, but I did give you a chance," I smiled wickedly before I got up from the table.

"Adriana?" Christine looked questioningly at me,

"What are you doing!" Meg looked like her face was going to explode it was so bright red,

"Wait here," I walked over to the table. The man was not eating alone. He had two of his friends with him. Perfect.

"Hi," I said to him when I reached his table, "Uhh…my friend over there," I pointed to Meg who buried her face in her hands, "Thinks you look…very nice," I smiled at him, "And she would love it, if you and your friends would join us for lunch,"

The man looked at Meg and then at me. He smiled, "That would be lovely Mademoiselle,"

The man turned out to be Philippe de Winter, an Englishman who had moved to Paris two years ago. His two friends were a Monsieur Aleksandr Petrovsky, a former French starving artist turned businessman and a Mr. John Big, an up and coming tycoon from my neck of the woods; New York.

From the start I made it perfectly clear that I was engaged, just as Christine made it clear she was married. However, the men made it clear they didn't really care. We had a good lunch, which turned into a long walk on the hot April day; which later turned into them taking us to their favorite night spot.

It was a lounge with minimal lighting and hot music. Very un Raoul I daresay. Meg was the only one of us how was having a good time at first. She enjoyed all three men very much, though she mainly clung to Philippe.

Christine and I were both missing the men we had already fallen in love with. I made it obvious to both Monsieur Petrovsky and Mr. Big that I would not be unfaithful to my fiancé at any point during the night and they left me alone. Christine was too polite and did not have as much luck. And wicked me I let it happen.

I watched as her eyes silently pleaded with me, begging me to do something as Monsieur Petrovsky, after a few drinks, offered to give her a tour of the place, the main attraction being a dark corner.

She broke Erik's heart, now she was getting her just rewards. But Goddamn my stupid conscience I couldn't go all the way through with it. At the last minute I decided that she had had a good scare and I quickly went and rescued her, pulling her away to the bar.

"Thank you," She said when we reached it and I called for two glasses of wine, "I just couldn't seem to get him to leave me alone,"

"Men are tricky," I said simply.

The rest of the night went better. Neither Christine nor I were bothered by anyone the rest of the night. We laughed, we drank, hell we even danced, all in innocent fun. Meg's fun was not so innocent. After awhile when we did not see her, we searched the more secluded corners and found her and Monsieur de Winter in a rather compromising position.

Meg wanted to go home with him at the end of the night but Christine and I prevented it. "Not on the first night," I said.

We brought Meg back home with us, because we didn't think she could make it home on her own. Alone at last in my room I thought about the night. I had been entertaining, but I found the entire time I had been close to tears. It was like being single again, and I didn't want that. I saw just how miserable I would be. Every man I saw I somehow I hoped it would be Erik. Every time I was disappointed. I knew that this proved it beyond a doubt. I would never want anyone except for Erik.

I hugged one of my pillows and closed my eyes, pretending it was my fiancé I held in my arms and not a sack of feathers.

Erik was not sleeping well either. He lay on the sofa; it was too small for his long legs and they hung uncomfortably off the end. He had spent all day wondering what he was going to say to the boy when he saw him the next day, if he saw him the next day.

It was ironic, Erik thought. When he had not wanted him around he could not get rid of him. And now that his future depended on talking to him he was not there.

He had spent all day finding out as much as he could about the split between the newlywed de Chagnys. He had various sources, mainly the Persian, but also the old nosy widow who lived next door. She was obsessed with the social page and was able to re tell most of sad fairy tale.

Apparently, the two had gone off and eloped in the country of Christine's birth; just as they had planned. The old widow mentioned the terrible scandal and the monster which had almost claimed the young beauty before her fiancé saved her. Erik shifted in his seat as this. How many times did he have to be the monster in the story?

It was when they had come back that they had run into problems. The finances of the de Chagny estate had been a mess and the new husband had had to sort them out. Of course this had kept him away from his new wife. Alone, she had become more and more upset. The widow had said she had seen a picture of them together on the social page and it looked like the new bride's smile had been forced.

And the boy's two sisters did not help either. The epitome of old school aristocracy, they strongly disapproved of their brothers chosen wife and of the thought of their family money going to the children of this woman and not to their own.

All this had put stress on the new couple as Raoul tried to force his wife to fit the mold of a proper French lady and Christine tried to understand her husband's world. Eventually, they cracked.

Erik rolled over on the sofa. Sighing, he reached over to the table in front of him and picked up his wallet. He took out the picture of him and me and stared at it in the dark. He touched the picture to his lips and then placed it under the pillow.

I could have slept all day, but I was not allowed to. I was stirred awake by a maid knocking on my door.

In a hurried rush of French I gathered from her that Christine was having a bit of a breakdown in the drawing room.

I ran out of my room in nothing but a nightgown and rushed down the stairs. Christine sat, crying again, on the sofa. Meg stood by her. Somberly she handed me a copy of the newspaper.

"Raoul is going to kill me," I heard Christine mutter.

Erik had gotten up early and stared his now familiar walk to the Navy offices. If the boy was there at all today than he would talk to him.

To his relief, he was told that the Vicomte de Chagny was in his office and Erik didn't wait to hear any more before he practically ran down the hall and up the stairs. He loudly knocked on the door. He expected to hear the boy call him in right away. Instead he heard something fall down inside the office.

Tentatively Erik opened the door. He had heard something fall down; the boy. Erik watched as the boy cursed and stood up. Erik's eyes went from his disheveled appearance to the half empty bottle of whisky and he had to admit he was surprised. He had never pegged the boy for a drunk.

Raoul de Chagny stood, after tripping over a chair on his way to the door, ran a hand though his hair in an attempt to make himself look more presentable but he knew it was useless. He shrugged and shook his head.

"I'm sorry Monsieur Pitt," he said heavily, going back and sitting down at his desk. "This has not been a good morning for me,"

For the first time Erik noticed a copy of the daily newspaper which was lying on the top of the desk. Following his eyes Raoul looked at the paper. He picked it up and gave a small, mirthless laugh before he threw it in front of Erik.

Picking it up Erik tried to hide his surprise. He was looking at the society page of the newspaper. There, in huge black and white, was a picture of three people Erik recognized in an instant; Christine, Meg, and me. The heading above the picture read 'Viscountess about town." The picture itself was the three of us smiling in the lounge the night before. There was nothing particularly damning about it by 2005 standards, but 1882 was another story.

Erik had to smile though. My fiancé looks happy, and lovely, he thought. He was bothered by the fact that I was going out to lounges at night while he pined away on the Persian's sofa. However I was standing between Christine and Meg; no man in sight; and I had my hand holding my drink so my engagement ring was in full view. Erik read the story below the photograph. He had to smile again when he read that the Viscountess's two friends were noted ballerina Meg Griy and New York City socialite Adriana Lima. What were the odds that I would give that name just as he had given Brad Pitt?

"That's my wife," Raoul said, shaking his head. "I tell her she's not acting properly and this is what she does,"

Erik took a deep breath. Now was the time. He could feel it; now was when he would have to help this boy. And he didn't know what to say.

"It's as though…she doesn't even care! I've told her a hundred times…and now…" He shrugged and picked up his bottle, "My sisters have been telling me to do it for months…I just signed the divorce papers,"

Erik knocked the bottle right out of Raoul's hand.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He asked Raoul furiously,

"Monsieur Pitt," Raoul was shocked by the sudden outburst and looked up confusedly,

"Do you love your wife?" Erik bellowed at him. Raoul just stared and blinked, wondering why this man seemed to care so much, "Do you love your wife?" Erik repeated angrily. Raoul still said nothing.

"Your damn right you do," Erik glowered, his voice rising even more "I remember a time _last_ _year_ when you wouldn't let death threats, kidnapping, fire or water come between you and this woman! You went down into what might as well have been the dungeons of hell for her! And now you want to give it all up because of your sisters? Because your wife went out and had a good time?"

Raoul's mouth gaped open. His mind spun. But even more than that regret stirred in his heart.

"There is still time to fix this," Erik said, placing his hands on Raoul's desk and leaning forward, "Where are the papers you signed. We can rip them up and pretend they never existed,"

"I wish I could!" the boy was miserable, "But I sent them off already…my sisters are on their way to take them to her now,"

Erik thought quickly, "You stay here. Sober up. When I come back we are going to fix this!" With this, Erik bound out of the room and practically jumped down the stairs.

If he ran like hell, he thought, he might be able to stop the sisters before they reached the de Chagny house. Erik didn't even hear the young man wishing him good day as he ran out of the office. He sprinted down the street toward the de Chagny house, running over anyone in his way. Within minutes he was panting and he felt like his legs were burning.

If those sisters got to the house, they would devastate Christine. It would certainly make it harder to patch up the couple if Christine found out how divorce happy her husband was. Erik felt sweat running down his forehead; it was another hot day.

It was quite a ways from the Navy offices to the de Chagny mansion. Erik ran as fast as he could for as long as he could but eventually he had to stop to rest. He bent over and grabbed his knees, panting. He looked up and he saw it; a large carriage. Inside were too shapes he had once seen in the box's at the opera seated with Raoul de Chagny.

"Shit," Erik muttered, and he stared to run again.

The carriage was still ahead of him but the sight of it was enough to keep him going. His legs felt like they were literally going to fall off but he kept going. It was a great relief to him when he saw the house come into view. On his first day he had asked the Persian where the de Chagny house was located, purely out of curiosity. Now he realized how lucky that had been.

The carriage stopped and the first sister began to alight and then walk toward the mansion.

"Wait!" Erik called, running toward her, "Wait!" he skidded to a stop in front of the two confused and appalled looking women.

"Who in God's name are you?" One of them asked.

Erik smiled, holding up a finger to indicate that he needed to catch his breath. Gasping, Erik began, "I…just came…from you brother," He took one huge breath of air.

"Oh, and what did the socially challenged boy have to say?" One sister said, crossing her arms.

"He," Erik took one more deep breath, "He instructed me to take the divorce papers, and rip them up before you gave them to his wife,"

The two sisters looked at each other and then back to Erik and laughed, "You expect us to believe that?"

"Yes, I do. Now please, the papers," Erik held out his hand.

"Absolutely not Monsieur!" One said, "We finally talked some sense into him and we are doing what is best for him,"

"Madame please, I am under your brother's orders! He wanted to look over the papers again…I'm sure two ladies as smart as you can understand that!" he smiled and prayed to all that was holy that he was being charming, "Now please, I work for your brother and he'll kill me if I don't bring those back before you show them to his wife. Now, can't you do me this one favor? Please…I ran all the way here…my job is in jeopardy...can't you two, lovely women do a poor man a favor?"

Erik smiled and, reaching out, grabbed both women lightly by one shoulder. He waited several agonizing moments before the women responded. After quite a few years of marriage and after never being the epitomes of beauty themselves, having a handsome looking man beg them for help made them blush.

"Well…no harm in letting him have another look at it," One sister said.

"And we wouldn't want you to get fired," The other sister said in a slightly giddy voice as she handed Erik the papers.

"Your angels, both of you," Erik said smiling with relief, "And I have your promise that you won't mention this to Madame de Chagny?"

"Well…we won't mention the divorce, but we do have to reprimand her from her actions," Erik supposed there was no stopping that.

"Many thanks again ladies," Erik said, bowing to them slightly as he backed away. And then he thought of something, "Ladies, is Mademoiselle Lima staying with Madame de Chagny?"

The ladies faces hardened, "Yes," one sister said, "She is a terrible influence,"

"Oh I completely agree. But all the same, would you mind telling her that Monsieur Brad Pitt thought she looked absolutely beautiful in the newspaper?" Erik felt a great longing, knowing that if he walked into the doors of the mansion he would see me again, but the man had said, as one of the rules, he was not to see me for a week. All the same, he hoped his message would be taken in.

One of the sisters nodded and they walked into the house. With one last sigh, Erik started the long walk back to the Navy offices.

The sisters entered the house while we were still in the drawing room. Christine looked up at them and stood up, "Oh wonderful! What news do you have from my husband then?" she asked hysterically, "Is he going to have me publicly stoned or just, banished from Paris?"

"Not yet, you are lucky Christine," One sister said.

The other sister sighed; she had promised the handsome man that she would deliver the message and she would not be a liar, "Mademoiselle Lima?"

Surprised I turned to her, "Yes?"

"A Monsieur Brad Pitt wanted me to inform you that he thought you looked absolutely beautiful in the newspaper,"

Brad Pitt? It had to be Erik! It absolutely had to be! "Where did you talk to this man? Out on the street?"

"Yes, just a few moments ago,"

I ran out the front door and searched through the people on the street. To my dismay I realized Erik was no where in sight. Defeated I walked back inside. It was uplifting thought, to know that Erik had seen me, and that he thought I was beautiful…But I couldn't help but wonder, why hadn't he come in if he knew where I was?

Erik reached Raoul's office again. When he walked in the boy looked coolly at him.

"How did you know so much about my past Monsieur Pitt?" he asked suspiciously.

So the boy has caught on, Erik thought with a smirk.


	27. Shock and Awe

Shock and Awe

"I never told you anything about what happened last year between my wife and myself," Raoul said skeptically. He eyed Erik as though he was a snake ready to strike.

Erik shut the door behind him. Calmly he sat down in the chair in front of Raoul's desk. He shook his head and smiled, "I got the papers back," He held them up and then threw them on the desk. He waited for a moment and then spoke again, "I suppose that what happened last year between your wife and yourself was so under publicized that I couldn't just ask my friend's neighbor to give me the story,"

Raoul considered for a moment, "And I also suppose," Erik continued, "That since I am French it is ridiculous to assume that last year as this time I was in Paris,"

Raoul sighed and shook his head, "I'm sorry Monsieur Pitt," He gave a short laugh, "I guess I am just getting paranoid…everyone telling me what to do, and knowing exactly what I _do_ do,"

It was Erik's turn to laugh.

"What's so amusing? If you don't mind me asking?"

"Not at all," Erik said, containing his laughter, "For one, you were so close to catching on, and then you were so easily talked out of your own opinion! No wonder your sisters have you divorcing your wife! And of course, you did just say 'do do'"

Raoul cocked his head, "What do you mean Monsieur Pitt?"

"I am going to guess that despite all the hungry reporters in Paris, you never released all the facts; how you almost drown…and how does you neck feel?" Erik smiled wickedly.

Raoul knew in an instant the he had never told anyone the whole story…certainly never that he had been nearly hung. But how was it possible?

"You…?" He stammered, and suddenly he knew exactly where he had seen half of the face sitting before him. He had always suspected that he knew this Brad Pitt person from somewhere, but HOW was this possible? How could it be _him_?

"Caught on at last have you?" Erik smiled.

"But how…?" Raoul looked at once helpless, confused, and angry.

"That is a tricky question, and one you don't need to concern yourself with right now. Your only concern right now should be your wife," Erik said calmly.

"How the hell did you get back here!" Raoul shouted, "And how the hell can you look…like you look! I've seen your face!"

"Quit shouting, it won't get me to answer you any faster," Erik said, remaining composed, "I can't really explain to you why I look the way I do, I can only say that I am here because of the mess you have made of your marriage,"

"Why does that concern you?" Raoul snapped, "Are you just waiting to swoop in on my wife and take her away?"

"You really are dense," Erik signed, "If it weren't for me, you wouldn't even be calling her your wife right now. Tell me, would it make any sense for me to stop your sisters if all I wanted was to take Christine away?"

"No," Raoul admitted shortly, "But that still does not mean I truest you…are you wearing some kind of mask?" He squinted at Erik's face.

Erik rolled his eyes, "No, I gave up the mask…it looked a little silly,"

There were a hundred things going though Raoul's mind, and as such all his questions were caught in his mouth at once and he was not able to say anything.

"Back to your wife…"

"Wait," Raoul managed to say, "You are…you are the…phantom? Aren't you?" He looked at once terrified and confused.

"I once was yes,"

"Right, then I'm having you arrested," Raoul stood and made for the door.

Erik stood up and blocked him, "That would be a mistake," Erik said coolly, "You want to go to the police and tell them what? This man once terrorized the Paris Opera and now he doesn't want me to divorce my wife?"

"Yes, that is exactly what I will say," Raoul said and tried to push past Erik. Erik placed one hand on the boys chest and pushed him backward,

"You think they will believe you? You hardly believe your own story! And remember how easy it was for me to convince you that you were wrong? The only thing that will happen if you try to report me to the police is that you will probably be recommended to a mental health professional,"

Raoul looked angrily at Erik, "So why the hell are you here? Why not just leave me and my wife alone?"

"Believe me I would love to, but you two screwed things up! If you weren't threatening to divorce her, I wouldn't have to be here!"

"That doesn't make any sense," Raoul said, sitting down again.

"No it doesn't, I'll give you that," Erik said, "And if there were any other way I would much prefer it, but as it turns out this is what I have to do,"

"Why do you have to do this?" Raoul asked shrewdly

"Because…" Erik didn't know what the best thing to say was. The truth? The same man who transported him to the future told him he had to so he could get back his fiancée? Or was that too bizarre? "I just have to. Believe it or not I do care a lot about Christine's happiness," He decided this might be more believable.

"You were _obsessed_ with her! You would have done anything to keep her! And now you just expect me to let you back into our lives and start meddling with things?" Raoul yelled,

"I had her!" Erik cried, "If you remember my plan worked! I had her and I could have kept you from her forever and I let her go! Because I could not make her happy! You can!"

Raoul bit his lip as he mulled over Erik's words. As much as he hated to admit it Erik was making him think about his situation with Christine in a whole new light. By reminding him vividly of the situation just one year pervious he remembered. He remembered how he would have done anything, anything at all, to get his beloved Christine.

He would have rather had anyone else but Erik point this out to him, and he couldn't believe he was actually listening to the ex phantom, but he had a point. He had once been willing to die for this woman; why had he changed?

"As someone who once thought you were the luckiest man in the world because someone loved you, believe me; it's not worth it to give it up," Erik said quietly.

Raoul looked up at Erik, "I still hate you,"

"The feeling is mutual,"

Raoul sighed, "What…" he shook his head and muttered, "I can't believe I am doing this!" then he spoke louder to Erik, "What did you have in mind?"

"For fixing the mess you have created?"

"Yes,"

"Alright," Erik thought quickly. In truth he had never even believed he would get this far. Now that he had he didn't really know what to say. "Well…"

"You don't have a _plan_?" Raoul questioned angrily.

"I didn't even think you would listen to me! I had a hard enough time trying to think of a reason for you to talk to me in the first place!" Erik shot back, "It wouldn't kill you to give me a little help here…you know your wife better than I do…what have you done lately to make her angry?"

"You mean besides threaten to divorce her?"

Erik glared at him, "Would you be as funny I wonder with a rope around your neck?"

"Alright," Raoul said, searching his mind, "I guess…she wanted to go and see the opera re open…I didn't want her to, for obvious reasons,"

Erik sniggered, "Alright…so you let her go to that, and…" Erik had a sudden, very wicked, and very amusing for him, idea.

"And what?" Raoul said, and he didn't like the look on Erik's face.

"Never mind that now," Erik said smiling, "First I think you should write a letter to your wife, apologizing for all you have done,"

"I haven't been that bad," Raoul defended himself,

"You wanted to divorce her because of your sisters," Erik reminded him,

"Fine," Raoul sighed and he took out a piece of paper and picked up his quill, "What do I write?"

"Christ," Erik muttered. Did he have to do everything? "My darling Christine," Erik began.

"She is going to know I didn't write that," Raoul said, looking up from the paper.

"Shut up and write," Erik said exasperatedly.

Erik dictated the entire note to Christine detailing how sorry her poor, pathetic husband was and how much he missed her. He apologized for his sisters, and he promised they would not be over to visit again. He also explained that he had seen her in the newspaper and he believed there had never been a more beautiful woman. He asked her to meet him at the opening of the opera. He signed it, 'your foolish, apologetic, loving husband."

Erik spent the rest of the day explaining his plan and then talking Raoul into doing it. He had had to argue furiously, but in the end he had agreed. Then Erik had to work out how it could be pulled off properly. All day long the two most unlikely conspirators ever came up with a plan that would shock Paris and, with any luck, bring two couples back together again.

Late in the day they finished. In fact, it was dark before they both left the office. They walked silently side by side down the stairs and out the door. Erik was glad to have his coat; it was a cool night with quite a wind.

Erik pulled his coat around him and began to walk off toward the Persian's apartment.

"So did you really go to New York?" Erik turned around and stared at Raoul. He could not think for the life of him why the boy would be prolonging the time they had to spend in close proximity to each other.

"Yeah," he said slowly, and then he turned to walk away again.

"Did you change your name to Brad Pitt?" He asked.

Erik stopped and turned around, "Not legally," He waited a moment for the boy to say something else but he didn't so Erik started to walk away again.

"So…so what should I call you then? Brad? Or…or Erik?" The boy was actually following him.

"You can call me Mr. President for all I care," Erik said, stopping again, "What is this all about? Why are you following me?"

"I'm not _following_ you," the boy said lightly, "I was just…trying to be amiable…trying to have a conversation…" he looked away awkwardly.

Erik narrowed his eyes, "You're afraid of going back to your sisters and telling them you're not getting a divorce,"

"No," Raoul shifted, "I'm afraid of going back to my sisters and telling them I'm not getting a divorce,"

"Jesus Christ!" Erik swore,

"Listen you don't know them! They're mad! I just want someone with me who knows how to kill people when I tell them,"

"Dear God you're serious," Erik said disgustedly. The boy gave him a pleading look, "Fine," shaking his head he followed the boy in the opposite direction of the Persian's apartment.

Raoul's sisters were both in the same house. They planned on ambushing him once he returned home to go over the final paperwork of the divorce.

"Good you are home," One of them said, and then her stern look lightened slightly, "Monsieur Pitt! What a surprise!"

Erik nodded awkwardly, "Ladies," he slightly bowed his head.

"I have something to tell you girls," Raoul said heavily as he sat down.

Ten minutes later the people in the neighboring house actually alerted the authorities to a disturbance in the home that appeared to involve the Vicomte Raoul de Chagny and his sisters.

Inside the house Raoul caught a wine glass to the face before Erik pushed him out the door, catching the matching wine glass aimed at them as a parting gift before it shattered.

Outside again Erik doubled over with laughter.

"That was not amusing," Raoul said angrily, his hand on his face.

"Yes it was! Your sister kicked you ass!" Erik stopped laughing only to take one look at the boy and start laughing again, "You weren't kidding were you? Your sisters really are crazy," he looked back at the house. "Well, goodnight," Erik said, and he began to walk away.

"Wait!" Raoul hurried after him, "I can't go back in there! What am I supposed to do now?"

"Not my problem," Erik said, picking up his pace and walking toward the Persian's apartment.

"Yes it is! You said you would help me," He grabbed Erik by the shoulder and Erik quickly threw him off. At that moment they passed under a lamp light and Erik noticed that the boy's face really was cut quite badly.

Erik shook his head. Never had he thought he would have to help the boy _this_ much. "Jesus," he cursed again, "Come on,"

Erik led the boy all the way back to the apartment. It was quite a hike, "Can we get a carriage or something?" Raoul asked. It was difficult for him to walk while he was covering half of his face to try to stop the bleeding.

"No," Erik said shortly.

"Why not?"

"Because I feel that would make life easier for you and that is the last thing I want to do,"

"So why are you helping me at all then? Is all this really to see Christine happy or do you have underlying motives?" Raoul asked,

"Of course I have underlying motives. After this I plan on invading Poland," Erik stopped a moment to make sure he was going in the right direction. They were in the light of a bar window and Raoul took his hand away from his face.

Erik looked at his blood stained hand, "You really are in bad shape aren't you?"

"Yes," Raoul said angrily, "How much further are we going?"

Erik had been watching the men going in and out of the bar and he had a sudden idea, "Why don't we go in here?" Without another word Erik entered the bar.

With no other choice, Raoul walked in behind him. He regretted it the moment he did. The bar was most defiantly seedy. There were plenty of tables at which men were seated, smoking cigars and playing cards. Scantly clad waitresses were walking through the tables delivering drinks in dirty looking glasses.

Erik calmly went to the bar and sat down, ordering a whisky. Raoul stood shocked in the door for a moment before he quickly went to Erik.

"We can not stay here!" He cried angrily, "I can not be seen here!"

"What's wrong with here?" The broad, grubby looking bartender had overheard Raoul and now glared at the well dressed boy.

"I can't think of anything wrong with here," Erik said simply, raising his glass and then taking a large gulp of the liquid.

"Damn right," The bartender laughed at Erik, clearly not bothered by anyone who liked to drink and liked to drink in his bar. Then he turned his attention back to the boy, "What happened to your face?"

"Oh he's a boxer," Erik said quickly, a sly smile coming over his lips, "Don't let him fool you; he's one of the best in all of Paris!"

Raoul glared at Erik, so appalled he could not find his voice.

"Really?" the bar tender looked interested, "Claude!" He called out and an enormous looking man stood up from his card game, "Now," the bar tender looked back at Erik and Raoul, "He is a boxer…Claude!" the large man had come up behind them and was staring at the bartender,

"Claude this man claims he is a better boxer than you are," The bar tender pointed a thumb at Raoul,

"Prove it," the big man said, and without another word of warning his fist caught Raoul in the stomach. Raoul let out a big huff of air as the man wound up to hit him again.

Erik watched this fight progress amusedly. He had been hoping for something like this to happen, it was his whole reason for entering the bar in the first place. He laughed slightly and finished his drink as Claude mopped the floor with the boy. That is for calling me a monster, Erik thought to himself.

However when it looked like the boy might actually be getting seriously injured Erik sighed and intervened. Erik walked calmly over to the big man, picking up a chair as he went. With one hand Erik smashed he chair against the man's back. He spun around only to catch Erik's fist in the jaw.

Momentarily free from the man's grasp, Raoul ran out the door. With a slight smirk Erik turned and followed him out.

"Hey! You owe me for the drink and for that chair!" The bar tender yelled at Erik as he left.

"Put it on my tab," Erik said casually as he left the now chaotic bar.

"You…bastard!" Raoul gasped when Erik had come outside. Raoul was hanging on to a lamp post to support himself, "You did all that on purpose!"

"Oh calm down," Erik said lightly, "I didn't let him kill you,"

"Oh than I guess I should be thanking you!" Raoul said sarcastically.

"If you insist…your welcome," Erik said with a smirk.

"I am leaving," Raoul said frustrated, "I never should have listened to you," he turned around and started to walk back.

"Where are you going? Back to your sister's house?" Erik asked in a harsh tone. He sighed; he realized that he had had his fun, but he would die if it cost him this entire operation. "Wait," Erik quickly stepped in front of the boy and blocked his retreat, "You probably shouldn't have listened to me, but you did, and I think it is because you really want to get back with your wife, and I think you know I can help you,"

Raoul stared him straight in the eye, "You almost got me killed,"

"Old habits die hard," Erik responded. He wondered if he had gone too far; his main objective here was not revenge, it was to help the boy and get me back and go home. Though he did have to admit it had been fun to see the fop get punched in the face.

Raoul had to laugh. "Fine," he said, "But I really do hate you,"

"Fare enough," Erik said with relief.

Ten minutes later the unlikely pair showed up at the Persian's apartment.

"What happened?" Nadir gaped as the two men walked into his apartment. The last person he had expected to see show up there was Raoul de Chagny. Not to mention the fact that the boy had cuts on his face and appeared to be holding his ribs.

"A lot," Erik said simply, "I believe you two already know each other?" Raoul and the Persian had met before and they shook hands.

"May I…?" Raoul indicated that he wanted to sit down,

"Of course, I am just going to take my friend and have a talk with him," The Persian pulled Erik into the small kitchen and glared at him, "What did you do to him?"

"I didn't do anything," Erik said mildly, "His sister threw a glass at him and then a very big man named Claude hit him in the stomach,"

"And then you brought him back here?" The Persian questioned.

"I had no where else to bring him,"

"Good God Erik, what the hell are you doing to do to us all next?" the Persian shook his head.

Raoul was taken care of. The Persian gave him rubbing alcohol for his cuts and ice for everything else. After this, the three men sat awkwardly in the living room, all of them wondering the same thing…where was everyone going to sleep?

The Persian would have his own bed, and Erik had very nobly given Raoul the sofa and offered to sleep in a chair.

But Erik wasn't sleeping. He still had half of his plan to carry out. He sat at the Persian's dinning room table and took out a piece of paper and he began to write. It was a cold night and it was quite late but Erik wanted this done.

He walked all the way to the de Chagny mansion, his letter to me clutched in his hand. He knocked on the front door and hoped one of the servants was still awake. A wary looking butler came to the door.

"I am sorry Monsieur, but the ladies have retired to their rooms," He said to Erik and then he made to shut the door.

"Wait!" Erik cried, grabbing the door with one hand and keeping it open, "Could you just give this to Mademoiselle Lima please? It is very important,"

The butler gave him a suspicious look but took the letter inside and wished Erik a good night. His work finally done, Erik trudged back to the Persian's apartment, not at all excited about sleeping in a chair next to the boy.

The butler handed the letter to a maid who in turn took it to me.

I was not having a good night. After the initial excitement about hearing a message from Erik, I had begun to wonder why on earth Erik had not come in after me! He had known I was here…why had he left?

Was he mad at me I wondered? Angry because he had seen me out at night? He couldn't possibly think I had forgotten about him could he?

My mood was not helped by Christine, who received a lovely letter from her husband asking her to forgive him. She had been so happy it made my dilemma worse by contrast.

The maid knocked on my door, "Mademoiselle Lima?" she said as I opened the door, "This just came for you," she handed me the letter. Excitedly I took the letter. I ran back into my room and jumped on the bed. This was like getting my college acceptance letter and my bar scores all at once. I knew who the letter had to be from.

I opened it and read;

**_Olivia my love, _**

_**I am so sorry for all of this my darling! I was so worried about you…I hope you are safe, and not too put out by Paris fashion. I saw in the paper; you manage to retain your style. As I hope those two terrible sisters told you, I thought you looked absolutely stunning. I owe you an explanation for so much, but I will start with why I did not come in to see you today. I was told by the same strange little gypsy man that I think also visited you that I was not to see you for a week. In the mean time I am to help Raoul de Chagny, a man I hate, get back together with his Christine. So far things are going well, but believe me being away from you is hell. I am so sorry I sprung the truth of my past on you, I never meant for this to happen. I think about you all the time; I miss everything about you…mainly your ability to make me laugh. I dearly miss your laugh, your smile. I think it goes without saying that I miss your touch. I think I may die of longing before I see you again. **_

_**I do have instructions for you Olivia, or are you Adriana now? That did make me laugh darling. If you have not figured it out yet, I told the boy at first that my name was Brad Pitt! Anyway darling, go with Christine to the opera on Friday. **_

_**Be there my darling and I will see you again. Until then…I can't even begin to explain how I miss you. I love you my dear and I hope you can forgive me for what I have gotten you into. **_

_**Sleep well my love. **_

_**Your devoted fiancé, Erik. **_

I started crying at the first sentence and I continued long after I had read the thing over several times. My poor Erik! He had no need to apologize! It was all my fault…I should have believed him. And now he was being forced to help a man he hated.

I ran my fingers lightly over the paper. Erik had touched this very paper with his long, artful fingers. Erik had sat with this paper before him just as I did now. That knowledge alone at once comforted me and broke my heart.

Kissing the letter and wishing it was Erik, I tucked it under my pillow and tried to sleep. My heart had never felt so torn apart. I always knew that love was hard, but this was ridiculous! I had already battled through the millions of un dateable toxic bachelors and finally I had the one! For anyone else but Erik none of this would have been worth it.

Erik found he absolutely could not sleep in the chair. He took the pillow and light sheet and stretched out on the floor. It was too cold so Erik covered himself with his coat as well. Three hours before dawn Erik finally slept.

Raoul of all people was the first to wake up the next morning. His face hurt and he wondered if it would scar. His ribs hurt too and none of it had been helped by sleeping on an uncomfortable sofa.

It was ridiculous, he thought to himself. He was an aristocrat, and here he was, sleeping on the sofa of a lower middle class immigrant. Just feet from the Phantom of the Opera no less, he thought to himself. He turned to see that the chair was empty. A sudden jolt of fear run through him; where was he? Lying in wait? Raoul's eyes darted frantically around the room.

With relief he saw Erik, sleeping soundly on the floor underneath his oddly fashioned coat. As he watched him, Erik grumbled in his sleep and repositioned his head on his barrowed pillow. He could kill him, Raoul thought. He could take a kitchen knife and slit his throat. But Raoul knew he would never do that.

He didn't trust Erik. He wasn't even sure it was really Erik. But was there any other explanation?

If he told himself the truth though, Raoul had to think he had this coming. He had not been a good husband and he knew it. Initially he had been called away by work and had to leave his wife alone.

Every day he thought about her and how he missed her. He doubted any of this would have happened if it had not been for Tray London. London had been a friend of his, who resented Raoul's marriage to the beautiful ex diva, and Raoul had believed him when he had said that he had had an affair with his wife.

It had all almost come out in a huge scandal that would have cost Raoul quite a bit to handle, except that London had made a mistake and claimed to have been sleeping with Christine at a time when three hundred people had seen her with Raoul's two sisters. With his own sisters supplying an alibi, Raoul realized London was a liar.

However his sisters reported that she was not fitting in well with the other members of their circle. Raoul was convinced that it was Christine's own actions which had made it possible for London to claim that he had been having an affair with her.

Knowing her name was not irreprehensible, and he knew another scandal would ruin her not to mention him. He was afraid that by acting the way she was she was leaving herself open for another attack like the one London had planned.

He should have known how foolish he was being. He should have recognized how warped his view of the situation was. It had to be warped, Raoul thought, if even someone like the Phantom, or Erik…or Brad or whatever his name was even saw how wrong he was.

Raoul was so confused about the sudden reappearance of the ghost in his life he was sure he could have pondered it all day, but he was not left to it for long.

"Oh you are awake," The Persian walked out into his living room. He had been half expecting to see no one there and discover that it had all been a weird dream, but there was the boy… "Where is Erik?"

The boy was about to respond but suddenly there was no need. The Persian tripped right over his friend's body, kicking him in the ribs and stepping on his back in the process,

"What the hell?" Erik grumbled loudly.

"Sorry friend! I didn't see you down there!" Nadir laughed as he spotted his friend stretched out on the floor. "What are you doing?"

"I was sleeping," Erik griped, sitting up and pulling himself off the floor. He stretched his stiff limbs and yawned.

"You didn't sleep well?" The Persian asked him.

"Your floor was hardly comfortable," Erik said dryly.

"You know you used to sleep on much worse; I think you have gone soft on me my friend," Nadir laughed.

Erik grunted, "Well," he said, "I guess we had better get started," He looked over at Raoul.

"Not that I want to know, but what is it that you need to get started doing?" Nadir asked.

Erik explained his plan to his friend.

Nadir shook his head, "You still frighten me sometimes you know,"

When I woke up Erik's letter was still on my mind. I took it out and re read it. I guessed it was a good thing I had not tried any harder to ruin little Christine. So I had had to agree to stay in the past forever and he had had to agree to help Raoul de Chagny.

But I was going to see him again, and far from being mad at me he was apologetic. I just had to make it to Friday and I would see him again. And then what I thought to myself? Where would we go? Would we stay in France? Could I convince him to go back to New York?

There was no point in wasting time though, so I pulled myself out of bed. I looked out the French doors and saw that the sky was gray and threatening to rain. Perfect, I thought.

I discovered Christine downstairs. She was positively giddy, fluttering around the dinning room like a bird.

"Good morning!" I think she might have chirped this, "it's a lovely day isn't it?"

"If you like rain," I said mildly.

Christine ignored this, "I had the cook make us a huge breakfast," Christine smiled happily, "Because we have work to do today,"

A close study of Christine confirmed my original prognosis of the girl; a typical case of the marry-eds. If I checked, I might have discovered that she was somehow related to Susan.

Christine was one of those girls who liked the idea of being married. Of Prince Charming and the evil monster she needed to be rescued from; first it was Erik (which had been completely foolish on her part) and now it seemed to be the Paris aristocracy.

The ironic thing was, of course, that the man she was so quickly welcoming back into her life was the very man who had fed her to the lunatics who lunch in the first place.

Still, despite the fact that he had left her high and dry, Christine was ready to catch the train back to Raoul-mania. Despite my own disgust for this, it seemed to work out alright for me. If Erik's objective was to get the two of them back together, then the fact that Christine was ready and willing was a good thing.

I put on another one of Christine's slips that day. Christine mentioned that she wanted to go to the tailor and have a new dress made for the opening of the opera.

Since the sky threatened rain we took the carriage. It was still a warm day out, but occasionally a burst of thunder ripped for the sky and I knew we were in for it.

The shop we went to was a place Christine had gone to get dresses made on pervious occasions. It was nothing like what I was used to. True, there were shops containing ready to wear clothes with attractive window displays, the great grand parents of places like Saks 5th avenue and Bergdorf Goodman, but they were not good enough for Christine.

We walked into the shop and were eagerly greeted by two dark haired women, one had a very tight bun in her hair and the other had very red lipstick.

"Bonjour! Viscountess! You looked so beautiful when we saw you in the paper! And this! This is your friend from New York?" The one with red lipstick said.

"Oh you are too kind Isabel! Yes, this is Adriana Lima," Christine introduced me and I thought that later it might be time to tell her my real name was Olivia Moss.

"I see you are wearing your…New York fashion," the one with the tight bun in her hair spoke this time. She looked disdainfully at me and I got the feeling she thought there was something wrong with wearing a slip in public.

"Yes," I said nodding; I didn't really know what else to say.

"Oh! You have to excuse Genevieve!" Isabel Lipstick took my arm and whispered in my ear, "She doesn't approve of anything new!"

"Well then she is going to hate me," I whispered back.

Christine did not really know what she wanted, so I helped her in her design a bit. What I had in mind was based on a Nicole Miller silk dress I had seen in the window and Bergdorf's. The silk with the dropped waist would look very flattering on the little stick figure. Of course, the dress I had seen had been a light yellow, but that would wash out her fair skin. I picked out a stunning blue for her instead.

Parts of the design had to be changed. Christine absolutely refused to wear it as I drew it; it was far to revealing. I was frustrated but really, what was it to me if she wanted to tow around yards of extra fabric?

Originally I had been planning on wearing the same Vera Wang dress, but Christine insisted it would be more fun if I got a new one as well. I protested, I told her I loved the dress I had, I told her I didn't have any money, but she insisted.

My dress was completely original, as in I based it off of my fantasy dress and not just one I had seen in a window. It would be red silk. It would have a halter style top with a scandalously low neckline and it would be backless. It would be a full length gown, but it would have a slit up to my thigh and I explained that I wanted the silk to flow when I walked.

Bun, Lipstick, and Christine were all shocked.

"You can't wear that!"

"It's completely improper!"

"You'll be practically naked!"

"I know," I smiled wickedly, "When Erik sees me he is going to faint!"

I knew that dresses like these would cause the biggest stir in Paris since the Revolution, but I didn't care. If Fate was going to stick me in 1882 than Paris was going to have to deal with all the shocking consequences.

The two dressmakers admitted that it would be heard for them to make such different dresses in the amount of time we had given them; but they promised they would pull everyone off of their usual work to complete them in time. It made sense; a Viscountess asks you to make two dresses that promise to make you famous, you do it.

Our next trip was to the cobbler. He practically laughed us out of the store when I showed him my foot and asked him to make a pair exactly the same in such a short time. When we explained what it was for, and that if he could pull it off it would elevate him above any other cobbler in all of Paris, he said he would get started right away. I noted that when we left, he switched his sign out front from 'open' to 'closed.'

Erik and Raoul had business that day as well. It was nothing to do with the Navy offices or ship building; in truth Raoul was not really needed there and since the marriage trouble with Christine he had only been using it as a distraction from his real problems.

The very strange threesome walked up the Paris street. Erik, in his modern black Prada coat and suite he had been wearing on the night of the Met Ball. Raoul, in a camel colored wool jacket and his Navy uniform underneath. Nadir, who had not wanted to be left behind and miss all the excitement, wearing half traditional Persian half French lower middle class attire.

After walking a ways the three men ended up getting a cab to take them to their destination. It was Erik who hailed the cab. After the yellow death cars of New York City getting one of these horse drawn buggies to stop felt to Erik like a walk in Central Park.

Their destination was none other than the Paris Opera. All three of them were lost in silent thought as they approached the building. Each of them had such memories of this place; love, life, death…It amazed them that they were returning.

It amazed the owners of the opera no less. The Paris Opera had been repurchased by two English men who did not believe in ghosts. However, they were aware that something out of the ordinary had happened involving the Vicomte de Chagny and the woman he was now married to. That was why Monsieur Royce Bergman and Monsieur Duncan Bock were so surprised to see him walk into their offices.

"Vicomte! This is unexpected…" Royce Bergman said awkwardly, turning to his business partner and looking for help.

"Yes we weren't…expecting you…" Bock was no help.

It appeared Raoul did not quite know what to say either. Erik elbowed him in the gut in order to get him talking.

"Right!" Raoul said, rubbing his already sore ribs and glaring sidelong at Erik, "I am here with a business proposition…as you might know my family used to be the patron's of this Opera House. We would be interested in returning to that position,"

This was half of Erik's plan. Raoul's parents were extremely old and living in a secluded mansion in the north of France. They left all their financial decisions to their son. Erik had managed to convince him that if he was looking for a good way to invest money, the Opera House would certainly do well.

"That fantastic!"

"Really!"

The two men spoke at the exact time. It would have been impossible to tell which one was more excited about the prospect. Repairing and re opening the opera had not been cheap and they were still not sure if their investments would pay off. Having some more money come in through the Vicomet would be most welcome.

"I have copies of the contracts I drew up with the pervious owners; I should be able present them to you in the next few days. If you find the terms acceptable than we can get that signed and underway,"

"Wonderful," Bock had never been more enthusiastic.

"There is one condition I have however," Raoul's voice wavered a little and he glanced sidelong at Erik again. Erik nodded silently. Raoul took a deep breath and continued, "I need a favor from you two,"

"Name it," Bergman smiled.

Raoul was afraid he would say that.

The trop of dancers and singers rehearsing on stage eyed the three men approaching with their new employer's with the same confused expression Bergman and Bock had given them.

No one was happy when Bergman and Bock interrupted their rehearsal. However, when they heard what their bosses had to say, they were all shocked and really quite amused. None more so than Meg Giry. When she heard what her friend's husband had in mind her first thought was to call on Christine and tell her.

As the unknown man, Monsieur Pitt, talked to the orchestra Meg made her move to sneak out and go send word to Christine.

Out of the corner of his ever watchful eye Erik saw Meg start to slink off the stage. Erik made a slight motion to get Raoul's attention, "Little Meg seems to be making an early exit,"

Raoul turned to him, "Do you think she will go and tell Christine what we are up to?"

"Is this the Paris Opera?"

Raoul muttered a curse under his breath and ran off after Meg. He caught her and stopped her just off stage.

"Meg!" he cried, then he lowered him voice when he realized he had her attention, "You can not tell Christine what I am going to do…it is not the same if it is not a surprise,"

Meg bit her lip, "I sort of feel like I owe it to her,"

"Remember Meg, she was the one who cut ties with you before; she didn't even want to be your friend," Raoul said,

"That's right," Meg nodded, "She stopped being my friend at _your_ request…I don't think I like you Vicomet,"

"All that is going to change! I promise! Just please don't tell her,"

Meg nodded slowly, "Alright, but if this gives her a heart attack it is not my fault,"

Finally everything was coming together, and falling apart at the same time. Our plans, Erik's and mine, were ready to be set in motion. It was me who was falling apart.

When I had first seen the 1882 Paris street and chosen to stay with Erik, I had almost not believed it. It was shock; like after a person you really love dies and you don't quite believe it for awhile.

The night before the opening it was beginning to set in. I would never see my friends, or my mother and father or my sisters again. My life as I knew it had died. Now I was just waiting for my new one to be borne.

Erik didn't sleep the night before the opening. He sat alone in the Persian's apartment, mulling over what he was planning on doing, knowing it would shock Paris all over again.

The next day Christine and I picked up our dresses from Lipstick and Bun. They weren't exactly what I expected, but they did look gorgeous. We were told that they were not as hard to make as originally thought; it was sort of like making a simple slip.

The cobbler had had luck as well. Once again, the shoes were not exactly the same, but they would do.

Getting ready was an interesting affair. My procedure for preparing for a night out was completely different than Christine's, the only similarity being that we both wanted to take a bath and wash our hair.

I was occupied pulling my own dress on. I came out from behind the screen and inspected myself in the mirror. The dress fit beautifully, "Kudos to Lipstick and Bun," I muttered as I turned. I had to take off my bra because the dress was backless and I admit I felt a bit exposed. I turned to see the back and smiled, "Thank God for the thong," I muttered.

"Adriana?" I turned to see Christine at the door,

"What is it Christine?"

"What…how…what are you wearing under that?" She looked shocked.

I laughed, "Have you ever heard of a thong Christine?" She shook her head no. I laughed again,

"What?" she said dumbfounded,

"Never mind," I said lightly.

"Adriana-" Christine started but I cut her off.

I laughed harder at her, "Christine…my name isn't Adriana Lima. It is Olivia Moss,"

"Why-?" she looked confused.

"Because you are very gullible. You should work on that,"

I left her in silent awe and shock of my statement. But before I left the room I took one last look in the mirror. Yes, this was what I would be wearing the night the rest of my life was borne. I smiled at myself; 125 years in the future I was going to give Jackie and her friends at VOGUE one hell of a fashion icon.

Christine came and found me in my room. I was sitting at the vanity, putting on makeup I had had in my Fendi bag.

"What do you think?" she asked softly, spinning around so I could see the front and back of her new dress

"Looks good," I said.

She sat down in a plush chair across from me, "So you are Olivia, not Adriana,"

"Yes," I said, going back to smoking my eyes,

Christine blinked at me. Since the moment she had seen me walk out of that mirror she had had a feeling I would be different. How right she was. She sighed; her life had always been strange. She supposed there was no fighting it.

"Can you do that to my eyes?" She asked me.

I turned to her. I was surprised at how well she was taking this, "Yeah, just wait a minute," I finished my face and then moved on to hers.

When I realized we were both ready to go a strange feeling came over me. It was bazaar, surreal, that I was actually going to an opera to meet Erik. Not to mention that that opera was in 1882. I seemed to be moving in slow motion as I walked down the stairs and out the door along side Christine. I didn't even feel the rocky motion of the carriage as it took us to the Opera House.

The scene outside was a mad frenzy. There were reporters and men with large flashbulb cameras everywhere. In loud voices they called to the many opulently dressed opera goers to stop and pose for pictures.

When our carriage stopped and the door was opened for us the roar of the press grew even louder. A footman, dressed in a black suit, handed both of us out of the carriage. It sounded like some kind of explosion as the shocked and thunderstruck exclamations of those around us as they saw our attire.

Christine looked like the weight of it all was going to crush her thin frame to dust, but I was enjoying myself. Take that Paris, I thought. And I wasn't going to stop with fashion. I spent years in law school and I would be damned if it was all going to go to waste in a drawing room drinking tea.

"Mademoiselle Lima? Viscountess de Chagny? Would you come with me please?" The footman spoke to us. We followed him inside. The whole place looked grand; there were live flowers everywhere and everything had been cleaned until it shown like the top of the Chrysler Building.

We were led up the stairs and toward the stage. As we passed everyone gasped at my dress; she is naked! How scandalous! Can you even believe!

"Adriana…I mean Olivia, everyone is glaring at us!"

"Their jealous," the truth was I didn't care what they were. This was my time now.

The footman stopped before a cloth curtain and ushered us in.

"Oh a box…fancy," I said as I stepped inside.

I turned around and looked at Christine, "Why aren't you coming in?" I asked her.

"This…this is box five," she stammered in a low voice.

"So? Since when was five an unlucky number?"

Christine shook her head and looked troubled, "Box five was _his_ box,"

"Monsieur Pitt requested that you be seated here," The footman said, obviously trying to help us in our little dispute. However this is all the advice he gave us because then he was called away.

"I can't go in there! It was the Ghost's box!" Christine said adamantly.

"Who is the Ghost?" I asked

"Erik!"

"But Erik is the one who wanted us to use the box!"

"No Monsieur Pitt wanted us to, whoever he is,"

"But Monsieur Pitt is my fiancé! He wouldn't put us in any harm!"

"I thought you were engaged to the Phantom!"

"Who?"

"Erik!"

"I am!"

"But you just said Monsieur Pitt was your fiancé!"

"Erik is Monsieur Pitt!"

"What!"

"It's a fake name he has been using,"

"So…" Christine thought about it for a moment, "Erik wants us to use his box?"

"Wait who's on first?" I laughed as it all finally became clear.

"What?"

"Never mind," But to myself I muttered 'third base' as I sat down.

Seeing nothing else for it, Christine came into the box and sat next to me.

Our footman hurried off to find Monsieur Pitt backstage. He saw the tall form of the man pacing back and forth and run up to him.

"They are here Monsieur,"

Erik nodded to him and went off to find Raoul de Chagny.

"They are here," Erik told him.

Raoul stared wide eyed at him, "Are you sure I have to do this?"

"It's too late to back out now; besides, you want to show your wife you have seen the error of your ways don't you?" Erik asked him.

Raoul nodded but he felt his throat was too dry to speak. He nervously started to pace back and forth.

"This is going to make me look like a fool," Raoul moaned as he paced.

"If it makes you feel better I already think you look like a fool," Erik said in a would be helpful voice.

"I never did like you," Raoul said to him. Erik just smirked and shrugged.

"Ahh…" Nadir came back from the front of the stage and laid his hand on Erik's shoulder, "They are ready,"

Erik nodded stoically, "Here we go."

Erik walked to the front of the pit and took up the vacant conductors stand, grasping the wand the conductor had left there. When he had heard what the strange Monsieur Pitt and the Vicomet Raoul de Chagny were planning, the conductor had walked off in an angry huff. He had refused to be a part of something so non traditional and outlandish.

Immediately Erik offered to fill his position. They were performing an old opera that Erik had heard a thousand times. Every note was perfectly committed to his genius musical mind and he had no doubt that he could conduct the pit orchestra. What he did have doubts about was what would come after. He just hoped the boy didn't run away.

Curtain was up before I knew it. I thought that it all was wonderful; the music was powerful and the singing wonderful. However, not even midway through the first act Christine leaned over to me and whispered,

"I can not believe it! They haven't changed a thing in this whole production! I remember when I was in it years ago…even the choreography is exactly the same!"

It all looked good to me because I had never seen it before, but all over the opera house the audience was thinking the same thing. It was good, but nothing to write home about.

Soon I found myself thinking more about where Erik was than what was happening on the stage. Tonight I was going to see him. Tonight I was going to see the fiancé I had last spoken to in New York City on the top of a building. Where I had called him crazy and ran from him, I thought ashamed of myself. The more I thought about him the more anxious I became. My leg started to jiggle up and down uncontrollably and I began to search the shadows for the form of my fiancé.

Beside me Christine was doing the same. Completely bored with the opera, Christine was torn between hoping she would see her husband and dreading to see the man I claimed to be engaged to. Could it be true she thought? Was anything I told her the truth? At first I had been Adriana…now I was Olivia? First I was engaged to Erik and then to Monsieur Pitt and then to Erik again. She shook her head. All she wanted was her husband.

The truth was that even though she still loved him very much and wanted him back, she had been extremely hurt when he had left her. To know he didn't trust her or approve of her…she wondered if she could really still look at him the same.

Erik was bored with the opera as well. It was so damn unoriginal, he thought. Still a kind of electricity was flowing through him. He knew that behind him, in his old box, I was waiting for him.

Raoul was still pacing nervously backstage. Occasionally he looked up to see that the Persian was watching him, making sure he didn't back out and try to run for it. A part of him was screaming at him to get the hell out of there; this whole plan would be extremely detrimental to his reputation. But another part of him understood that it was something he should do, for himself and for his wife. Christine; a part of his heart felt pained when he thought of the way he left her.

All and all it was the end of the play we were all waiting for, if not for different reasons. It seemed like it could not come soon enough. Finally the opera was over. The glorious singers and fabulous dancers all came out and took a bow. Christine and I clapped especially hard for Meg. I even whistled, earning myself a stern look from the elderly couple in the box behind us.

It seemed like it was all over and now we would all be going to the sort of after party in the main foyer. However, a man walked onto the stage and called everyone back to attention.

Beside me Christine screamed. "That's Raoul!" she could hardly breathe and she covered her mouth with her hands.

"Ladies and gentlemen if I could have your attention for a few more moments!" Raoul called out and a hush came over the audience. He swallowed nervously; this was the last thing he ever thought he would be doing.

"I am out here because I have…" He lost his voice as he stared into the bright lights. He couldn't do this! And the glaring stage lights, the people watching him…this was much grander than he had even given it credit for. Awestruck from the other side of the stage, Raoul began to wonder…

"You have been an idiot!" Erik barked loudly from the pit. He could see the dazzled look creep into Raoul's eyes and he knew what was happening. Raoul was forgetting what he told him to say and he had to remind him.

Erik's comment sent a ripple of laughter through the crowd. In our box Christine and I both leaned forward. That voice had sounded awfully familiar.

Raoul snapped back to life and realized he was just standing out on stage like a…well like an idiot.

"Yes, I have been an idiot; thank you for reminding me Monsieur Pitt!" Raoul raised his voice and took a few steps forward on the stage, "A big round of applause for Monsieur Pitt and the pit!"

Everyone clapped and I sat on the edge of my seat. So that was where Erik was…

"For those of you who do not know my name I am Raoul de Chagny. And for those of you who don't know my wife…congratulations," At this Erik signaled to the who beat out the 'ba boom boom crash' rhythm the strange new conductor had taught him earlier.

The crowed laughed again. I turned to look at Christine and I saw she was more confused than amused.

"No I do not mean that," Raoul corrected himself, "The truth is I love my wife, and that is why I am here tonight," His voice became more serious and everyone listened.

"Christine, darling," He looked right up at her and their gazes locked, "I have hurt you and I do not deserve your forgiveness but I am asking for it anyway. I love you and I have dearly missed you,"

Christine's eyes started to water. That he would get up on stage, in front of all of Paris and apologize to her…she knew that _that_ was the man she married, not the man who left her.

"And to show you how I really feel," Suddenly music started to play; a strange tune that sounded nothing like opera, "I have a little song for you,"

Everyone began to laugh as Raoul did some sort of absurd little dance move. Christine's eyes were wide and she was speechless. I shrieked with laughter as I recognized what song this was and who had to be behind it.

"Imagine me and you, I do, how I think about you day and night its only right to think about the girl you love and hold her tight so happy together," Raoul sang, though it was clear to everyone he was not at all confident and struggling to do the song. The whole audience thought it was extremely amusing and was laughing and clapping along with the weird music.

I thought it was amazing! It was 1882 and I was listening to a rendition of a Beatles song!

"I can't see me lovin' nobody but you for all my life! When you're with me baby the skies will be blue for all my life!" Raoul had felt foolish, and then he had felt scared, but then it came to him. Blinded by the light he finally saw the truth. He understood why Christine would be so caught up in this world of operas and ballets. Being out there on the stage, feeling the energy of every single person; each with their own life stories, all with their own problems and triumphs who would never even know each other all joining together for just a moment and reacting to something he was doing.

This was the stage, he thought. And it was amazing.

"Me and you, and you and me, no matter how they toss the dice it had to be… the only one for me is you, and you for me so happy together!" Raoul gained a bit of confidence and some of the people off stage began to join in with him as Monsieur Pitt had told them to do once they got the feel of the song. They were all happy to do it; happy to be given something to sing that had not already been done a thousand times.

Erik did not think this all could have gone better. True, Raoul was not the best singer in the world and he was lacking confidence, but that almost made it better. The audience thought it was hilarious.

He had never admitted to anyone that he thought his plan was anything but fool proof but he had always known a million things could go wrong. If Raoul was horrible or if the orchestra refused to cooperate...the orchestra had been a big concern. He had known that it would be extremely difficult for them to learn not only a new song but also a new style in an afternoon. However after being handed un stimulating piece after un stimulating piece they were happy to be given something else.

Most of them were sharing music with their neighbor because Erik had only made so many copies by hand and they were not completely in sync, but they had the right rhythm down, and Erik was a superb conductor.

Beside me I turned to see Christine suddenly bolt from her seat and run.

"Where are you going!" I called to her but she was gone.

Christine ran, pushing roughly past everyone in her way. She headed for the backstage entrance and then attempted to push through all the people but her way was blocked.

"Christine!" She heard her voice being called.

"Meg!" Christine yelled frantically to her friend as she came to her. Meg grabbed Christine by the hand, dragging her through the throng of people backstage; pushing and yelling at people to let her through.

When people realized who she was they let Christine and Meg pass easily and they made it to the stage.

I watched from my box as Christine ran out to join her husband on stage.

Erik looked up from the pit and laughed; his plan had worked better than even he had imagined.

"I can't see me lovin' no body but you! For all my life!" The happy couple was reunited.

The song ended and immediately my thoughts were of trying to find Erik. However, I did not know my way around this place the way Christine did and she was gone. Leave it to me to be able to navigate the Manhattan grid but not an opera house.

I headed back the way I had come. I felt like I was jumping out of my skin…I was so close to Erik! But where was he?

I was caught up in the crowd of people heading back out to the foyer for the gala. All of them were jostling happily to their destination. It was amazing the effect that a little music and a little change could have on people.

I made it out to the foyer. I stood by the rail of the grand staircase. It gave me a bird's eye view of the whole place; if Erik was in here then I would spot him.

And then…there he was. Standing about half way up the stairs was my fiancé. Though all of Paris was swarming around me I felt like the noisy room was suddenly silent and my heart seemed to have stopped beating. Slowly, because I felt if I tried to go any faster I would fall down, I walked toward him.

It was unbelievable that he was standing there. The man I had missed so much was only feet away from me.

I accidentally got everyone's attention. On my way towards Erik I was in such a trance that I didn't even notice when I knocked over the Countess Dubois of Lyon. She made a fuss and so did her husband and the rest of her party. When I made no sign of even realizing she was there the Countess followed my gaze to the man on the stairs.

"Oh!" And with that a ripple traveled through the crowd of people and they began to stop and watch. Everywhere there were whispers; that's the socialite from New York! Monsieur Pitt, the conductor…

None of this registered with me. I only saw Erik.

Erik watched me come toward him. This had to be a dream, he thought, because it was too good to be true. There I was; everything he had worked for, everything he had ever wanted was going to be his.

The ripple reached the bottom of the stairs. Meg was the first to hear the whispers. She was standing, her arms around her new admirer Philippe de Winter, when she turned around to watch. Taking Philippe by the hand she pulled him over to Christine.

Christine had been occupied with her reunion to Raoul, but suddenly she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Look!" Meg whispered and she gestured with her head toward the stairs.

Christine's head turned, "Oh my!" she gasped as she and Raoul watched the red figure approach the black one.

My mind rushed back to me all at once and I realized I was prolonging my own pain. I ran the rest of the way into Erik's arms. My eyes were filled with tears and I flung my arms around his neck. I felt him fold me in his embrace and rest his head on my shoulder.

I wanted to do so many things at once. I wanted to kiss him all over. I wanted to apologize for not believing him. I wanted to tell him I loved him. Never in my life had I felt so happy all at once. Erik was mine at last. The man I had missed so much over the past week as I had been trying to understand my new situation. And now I had him. It was so sublimely wonderful to know that it was the pressure of Erik's arms that I felt against my body and it was Erik's heart I heard beating as my head rested against his chest.

We drew back slightly to look at each other at the same moment. My eyes met his and I saw his were as blurry as mine were, "Erik I'm so sorry," I stammered,

Erik's brow furrowed and when he blinked at me in confusion; a single tear escaped from one of his glowing eyes. Erik tried not to cry but it seemed it would not be helped. For once, he had not failed. He had conquered every obstacle in his path and his plan had worked. He knew he held in his arms a woman who loved him, something he had never thought he would have.

Even after we had become engaged he had doubted that he would keep me. He kept thinking that when I knew the truth I would leave him, or that one day he would wake up and I would laugh at him and tell him it was all a joke.

But now he knew none of that was true. He had me forever and I loved him.

"Olivia…" he whispered and he just shook his head.

At long last Erik tilted my head up toward him and tenderly pressed his lips down on mine. It was glorious, the greatest reward after a week of suffering without him. Erik had never known a kiss could feel so good. His heart swelled and he suddenly felt like we might both explode. I pressed myself closer to him and without warning, I felt myself taken right off my Manolo's and spun around in the air. All the while our lips only parted for the briefest of moments.

After spinning me around like the giddy little boy he was, Erik put me down. He wrapped his gorgeous hands around both of my arms which he pinned to my sides. He kissed my forehead and then my lips again.

We were both smiling at each other now; well smiling and crying.

I guess that is just the way it goes sometimes. You get caught up in your day to day life and you stop believing; in love at first sight, in fairytales, in change and new ideas and in that little voice in your heart that tells you to stop and do something wild…to turn around and face the current and find what you really want.

And sometimes something has to happen; something stunning and unreal. Something beyond comprehension that shakes you to the core. It will leave you shocked; as I was to find out about Erik, as Raoul was to find out about Erik, himself and his wife…as Christine was to find out about Raoul…and as Erik was to find out about my love for him.

And in the end, it will leave you in awe. In awe that the lives we lead can crash together so suddenly and so strangely…and yet so perfectly. In the end, it remains up to shock and awe to remind us of what we want.

AN: _This is not the end! There is still more and Sex and the City the second season is in the works in my crazy head…kudos to you Andrea for knowing that Mr. Big in the pervious chapter was from the show! And to anyone else who recognized it! _

_Also if anyone was wondering what Olivia meant when she said, "Who's on first?" first of all shame on you! And second of all it is from a really funny Abbott and Costello routine…google it and read it! hehehe! _


	28. I Heart NY

I Heart NY

_Well guys this is the last chapter in this story! But fear not…I have a second one on the way! I just want to thank everyone who has been reading and reviewing…when I started this story I really thought no one would like it but it had turned out to be the most popular one I have written! I love writing it to…so there will be more of Erik and Olivia to come!_

_Kudos to Barb for noting the nod to Annie in the last chapter…yes I am a tool who does things like quote musicals and such! _

_And about the song in the last chapter…I knew the Turtles and the Beatles both did the song, I just said the Beatles because that was the one I was familiar with but thank you to everyone who corrected me…just thank you to every reader! _

_Love you all and enjoy! "Season Two" will be here soon! _

Erik kissed me again. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world; one of his hands pressed against my back, the other buried in my hair. We broke apart for a moment and stared into one another's eyes. I was so happy to see his eyes again. It was as though for a few moments, nothing else existed.

His lips pressed down on mine again; gently, tenderly, languidly. It was paradise.

Very slowly we both became aware of the commotion around us. One voice suddenly cut through,

"So this was your underlying motive,"

Raoul de Chagny and his wife Christine had walked up the stairs. Erik was so excited about having me again he didn't even care who he was talking to.

"This is Olivia Moss, this is my fiancé," He said excitedly. His arm was wrapped around my waist and mine around his back. I had to slightly dislodge myself when I met this Raoul person. I uncoiled my arm from around Erik to extend it to him.

Raoul took it and lightly brushed his lips across my knuckles. So that was where Erik had gotten that foolish habit. Erik decided that seeing the boy touch even my hand was too much. With a jerk he pulled me backwards a bit.

Glad to be as near to him as possible, I replaced my arm around Erik's back. I felt his hand squeeze my waist. I let my head drop against his chest.

"I am almost afraid to do this; Christine, you remember Erik?" Raoul motioned to him.

For the first time, Christine looked at Erik. Damn it if she didn't faint…again.

"Oh no," Raoul sighed as he caught his wife in his arms before she fell to the floor.

"She does that a lot doesn't she?" I asked.

"She's been known to," Raoul said, struggling slightly to hold her up.

"Oh no did she faint again?" Meg had come up the stairs as well. She turned around to face Philippe, "Would you go and get me some more champagne?" He nodded and went off to fetch it. Meg turned back to Raoul, "We can take her to my room,"

Raoul nodded and began to drag his limp wife along behind Meg.

"Don't you think you should help him?" I asked Erik.

"I think I have done enough," Erik said, lightly kissing the top of my head.

I smiled up at him, circling my arms around his neck, "Come on, he's going to drop her,"

Sighing Erik helped Raoul de Chagny for one last time. It wasn't so much that Christine was hard to carry; it was her huge dress that was making things difficult. I followed the funny little train of people heading toward Meg's room

We all made it to the room. It was reminiscent of the one I had come out of the mirror into that first day. It was strange, it had only been a week ago but it felt like much more.

"This is a _really_ nice room," I said to Meg as Raoul laid his wife on the bed.

"I'm a prima ballerina! I deserve the best," She said smiling.

At that moment there was a knock on the door. Nadir stepped into the room.

"I asked the de Winter fellow where you all went," he said.

Erik looked around the room. It was by far the strangest and most unlikely mix of people. Never had he expected to see all of them in one room. Erik and I leaned against Meg's dresser. Erik wrapped one arm around me again.

"We're all here, aren't we?" Erik said, looking around, "Everyone who was involved…last year,"

Everyone looked around at everyone else. Raoul de Chagny sighed before turning his attention back to his wife. He brushed a stray piece of hair out of her closed eyes, "Yes, we are all here again," he said.

"What do you mean Monsieur Pitt?" Meg asked and I realized she still didn't know who Erik was.

"That's not 'Monsieur Pitt,'" Raoul scoffed, "That's who you used to call the Phantom,"

Meg's eyes shot to Erik's face, a baffled look in her eyes and her jaw agape.

They all looked down at the floor, lost in thought. I had no idea what it must have been like to be one of them. Of course I was not involved in what had happened the year before, but as I was engaged to Erik I was still connected to all of them.

From what I had heard these people had done a lot to each other, both good and bad. It was stunning that they would all be standing again with each other after all that. The heavy silence of the room reflected how much had passed between them. I looked around the room.

"Erik," I said quietly, "It that…?" I pointed to something hanging on the wall. Once I saw it it was all I could look at; a white mask.

Erik followed my gaze and his arm around me clenched tighter. The biggest representation of his former life stared him in his now perfect face. He had thought that his mask had been given back to him by the strange gypsy. Yet Erik reasoned that if the gypsy man could move people through time he could also have obtained one of his old masks. He wondered how this one had gotten there.

"Oh…I found that the night it all happened," Meg said quietly. "I don't know why I kept it," I stared at her and I noticed that she blushed a bit.

I walked over and took it off the wall. I felt everyone's eyes on me as I held the thing in my hands. I traced over the edges and the plain of the cheek. I turned back to face Erik, still cradling the mask in my hands. Erik couldn't bear the sympathetic gaze of my eyes and he looked away.

Everyone watched me as I looked back down at the white thing in my hands. It seemed to be porcelain. It must have been ungodly uncomfortable to wear. Christine had told me all about it, about how Erik had refused to be seen without it, about how ashamed of his face he had been. And I remembered just how hard it had been for him to go out in New York.

I let the thing fall to the ground. It fell with a thud on the carpeted floor. I lifted my dress a bit so I could see my black stiletto heels. Determination on my face, I stomped my foot down hard on the white mask. It cracked and broke into a million pieces.

I walked back to Erik and slid my arms around him, my head resting against his chest. I felt his arms cross around me. "Thank you," he whispered in my ear.

Christine moaned at that moment and all heads swiveled in her direction; all except for mine and Erik's. I was too content with my head against him to be bothered with moving. Erik was thinking about what I had just done and too distracted to even notice Christine was coming to.

"Are you alright?" Raoul asked her as he gently stroked her hair.

Christine blinked slowly, "Yes…I was just having the strangest dream. Erik was here again…and his face! Well you wouldn't believe me if I told you,"

Raoul sighed, "I might," He paused for a moment before he jumped into the explanation, "Christine…Erik is here…you saw him just before you fainted,"

Everyone waited for her reaction.

"Fell free to be shocked Christine," Meg said, looking from her friend to Erik, "I was,"

"But…" Christine's eyes locked on Erik. He had turned and was looking at her now. I still had my arms around his middle but I had turned my head to face her as well.

"_How_ is it possible?" she asked softly. In a semi trance state Christine rose off the bed. She walked over to Erik and with a trembling hand she reached out and touched his face.

Distinctly Christine remembered Raoul asking her, 'What if Erik was handsome? Would you love him and not me?'

She remembered her answer well, 'Why tempt fate? It could never be'

Erik was the ugly monster hiding below the opera in the cold dungeons. He was not the handsome, well dressed man who stood before her. No, she thought, this could not be!

Her hand lingered on the side of his face. Erik felt awkward; the woman he had once loved was touching his face, while he held the woman he was engaged to in both arms.

I glared at Christine. Seeing her touch even his face was too much. Feeling my eyes upon her she looked at me. And then she knew; whoever this Erik was, he was not hers.

Her husband had come up behind her, "Maybe we should go back out to the party," He suggested in a low voice, placing a hand on Christine's shoulder.

Silently she nodded, seeming to awaken from whatever trance she had been in right before our eyes. Raoul guided her back out the door of Meg's room. For one last moment Erik appreciated them all being together again in one room. He knew it would never be so again. It had all come full circle, and now we would be spun off into our own lives.

And then Christine and Raoul de Chagny left the room. Meg offered all of us a smile and then muttered something about finding Philippe. She left too. Something about being in the room was just depressing, and it was Meg's room after all, so Erik, the Persian and I left as well. Erik shut the door, leaving the shattered mask alone in the quiet room.

Back in the main hustle of the party all sprits rose considerably. Maybe it was the music playing, maybe it was all the people or even the lovely decorations…but Erik and I both agreed it was probably the alcohol.

At first all of us split into three groups. Christine and Raoul moved off to speak to some of Raoul's parents friends; all of whom told Raoul how funny he had been on stage. Meg went off to find Philippe again. Erik introduced me to Nadir and we stood at the top of the stairs talking.

"Well Nadir…this is Olivia Moss," Erik said and I noted the mix of pride and excitement in his voice. To Erik, this was the most important introduction of all. Nadir had been his only real friend and the only person who had really seen the soul behind the Phantom.

I smiled widely as the Persian took my hand, "Very pleased to meet you Mademoiselle," He said as his lips touched my knuckles, "Erik has told me a lot about you,"

"I hope he didn't bore you," I said. I had to admit I was nervous; this was Erik's best friend and I wanted him to like me.

"On the contrary Mademoiselle I found everything most interesting; although I should scold you Erik! Your description of her beauty does not do her justice," He spoke charmingly and I flushed bright red. I tried to hide my face in the comfort of Erik's chest but he wouldn't allow it completely. He laughed at my embarrassment. I realized I was acting like a child and I spoke,

"Thank you Monsieur, but you are far to kind,"

"Now! Monsieur won't do! You must call me Nadir," He smiled.

"Only if you call me Olivia,"

"Well, while you two get acquainted, I think I will make a trip to the bar, I'll be back in a moment darling," Erik said, and he kissed me quickly on the lips before heading down the stairs.

I watched him go and I felt nervousness in my stomach. I never wanted to see the back of him leaving me again. On the other hand, I thought as he walked away, he did have a cute butt…

"Olivia?" I turned to look at Nadir. "Olivia…I have been Erik's friend for a long time, and I must say I have never seen him as genuinely happy as he is now,"

I wasn't quite sure what to say, but I certainly was glad to hear this. I smiled at him, "Well I've never been as happy as I've been with him before,"

Nadir smiled, "That is wonderful…but I am sure you have been happy before; Erik never has been," A sad look came into his eyes, "The entire…incident with Christine, it was the worst thing that had happened to him in years. It completely broke his heart. And the worst part was I couldn't stand by him through it! I had to think of the safety of Christine and the boy," Suddenly he looked me dead in the eye, "You know Erik can be dangerous when he is crossed?"

I stared back at him, "He's not dangerous to me," I said firmly.

"No no, he would never hurt you," Nadir said quickly, "But he is jealous…if he thinks any other man is pursuing you…" His voice drifted off. With a shutter I remembered the whole Mark problem. Erik had become jealous and protective…and then he left me.

"I think he had grown a lot in the last year," I said.

"I am sure he has…and I believe that you are responsible for most of it," Nadir smiled at me again, "May I ask you…Erik's face…did you meet him before or after it was…?"

"Before," I said firmly.

"And you loved him anyway?"

"Absolutely,"

Nadir nodded, "As his only real friend I feel like I am obliged to say this…if you ever leave him he won't be able to handle it,"

I took a deep breath, "Nadir, I don't do things without thinking them through completely. I promised that man I could spend the rest of my life with him and I meant it,"

Nadir nodded, "I wish you both the best of luck,"

"Thank you, but we won't need it," I was sure that if we could make it through this, we could do anything.

Erik walked down the staircase and threaded his way through the crowd. Several people stopped him and complemented him on the performance. Others asked him about Mademoiselle Lima. Erik decided that since everyone already knew me by that name, and we wouldn't be staying there anyway, there was no point in correcting them.

Finally he made it to the bar, which was located at the far side of the foyer. It was out of the way in order to give as much room as possible to the dance floor.

As Erik waited in the small line that had formed in front of the bar, he heard two familiar voices. It seemed that they were coming from just around the corner.

"Was all this your idea?"

"I wish I could say that it was…but it was _his_ plan,"

"I can't believe you would cooperate with him!"

"For you I would…and to be honest, it wasn't so bad,"

Erik didn't believe his ears. Had the boy really just said that? It wasn't so bad. Erik had to admit now, looking back, it really hadn't been so bad. Maybe, after all they had done to ruin each other, it was over now. Raoul de Chagny was no longer a threat to Erik, just as Raoul no longer feared the Opera Ghost.

Trying to take the drinks back to us, Erik was again met with a million questions. People were asking him if he wrote the song that Raoul de Chagny sang to his wife. They asked him what he did, where he was from, and how long he had been engaged.

With all the commotion around him, Erik wondered if it hadn't been better to be let alone.

Meg watched the small crowd swarming around the man she had just learned the true identity of. Meg could understand all the interest around him. Though he looked like a Parisian, he had a certain mystique about him. In the sound of his slight New York accent, his uniquely tailored clothes, the shine in his eyes…he was different and therefore he was news.

Meg was not the only one staring. From her husband's side, Christine watched Erik in the crowd. She couldn't believe it…she just couldn't! In the crowd he looked tall, handsome, and dashing…there was not a trace of the madness or sadness that used to surround him. There was not even a trace of the horrible deformity which had been her problem with him to begin with.

It was true, if he had been handsome, she probably would have stayed with him. But she knew that chance was gone; the moment had passed. She had made a choice and it had all turned out alright. She was happy, and Erik was too.

It was hard to believe for Christine though; the man she had pitied and had thought of as pining away for her didn't love her anymore. Erik had always been a safety net, and after Raoul had left her she had begun to think of him more and more often. She had always believed that no matter what, she would have someone to love her. Now all she had was Raoul. And with a jolt in her stomach she realized the only reason she had him was because of Erik.

Christine followed Erik's form as he made his way through the crowd and back up the stairs. Her eyes fell on me. Everything from the way I dressed to the way I danced to the way I talked shocked her. Christine was surprised to see that Erik had gotten engaged to someone who was so…unlike her.

"He looks handsome, doesn't he?" Meg had come over to Christine and she whispered this in her ear, steering her away from Raoul, who was distracted talking to some Count something.

"Yes," Christine sighed, "Who would have imagined?"

"Not me," Meg said, "Did she tell you she was engaged to him when you two met?"

"Yes, but I didn't really believe her…I thought she was crazy or hypnotized or something," Christine said.

"You have to admit, she is fun," Meg said, smiling as she remembered our little night out.

"What do you mean?" Christine said, and she sounded a little offended.

"Nothing!" Meg reassured her friend, "I just think…she's a fun person,"

"More fun than me?" Christine asked in a semi hurt voice.

"Oh my God!" Meg moaned, shaking her head at her friend.

"What!" Christine asked

Meg just sighed and took her friend by the hand, "Come on," She said, dragging her along in the direction of the orchestra.

A few moments after Erik joined us again, I shrieked as the orchestra finally played something I recognized. My eyes searched the floor for the two people I connected with this song. Meg and Christine were waving at me.

This had been one of the songs we had danced to in the lounge. I laughed, "I have to go for a minute," I said to Erik and Nadir, who watched me as I flew down the stairs.

We descended on the dance floor. Immediately people began staring and wondering just what the hell we thought we were doing. I guessed they were not used to seeing three women behaving like that.

The men in our lives gathered at the bottom of the stairs. They all watched us with varying degrees of amusement on their faces.

"If those three become friend…" Raoul de Chagny shook his head.

"I'm afraid they won't have a change," Erik said mildly, sipping the drink in his hand, "We are going back to New York," Erik had decided not to tell me this; if he did he knew I would never sleep.

"Really?" Raoul actually sounded shocked.

"Yes! You didn't think we would be staying in this god-awful place did you?" Erik asked, wondering why the boy was so surprised.

"I guess I just thought you would be staying longer," Raoul felt an odd emotion that bordered almost on regret…he had enjoyed himself the past few days he and Erik had been planning to turn Paris on its head. True he had gotten into a painful bar fight but it beat sitting home and playing bridge with his sisters.

Raoul realized he sounded to upset when he spoke so he added, "Not that I'm not glad to hear it; this city stinks enough without you in it,"

Erik laughed at him, "You say that, but I know you are going to miss me," he spoke sarcastically and he didn't know just how close to the mark he was.

"Miss the man who tried to get me killed in a bar? I think not," Raoul said defensively.

"You know I really think you need to let that go," Erik said seriously, though he could not keep a smile off his lips.

After the three of us gals were done looking like fools all by ourselves, we decided to involve our significant others. Meg and Christine pulled their men out onto the floor where some strange mass waltz was started. Me, not knowing the steps, went and found Erik just off the dance floor.

"Do you want to dance darling?" He asked me. He was so happy with how well the night was going he was ready to do anything.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and smiled as he circled his arms around my waist, "No…I don't know the steps,"

"So?"

"I don't want to look stupid!" I cried and I saw a mischievous look come into his eyes and he started to say something but I cut him off, "This is not the time to say 'I already think you look stupid!'"

Erik feigned a shocked expression, "I would never say any such thing! I was merely going to suggest that we dance anyway,"

Any suggestion of his was awfully hard to resist when he smiled at me like he was, with his eyes shinning…I let him take me out on the floor. We moved among the couples already out there until we reached the middle.

To my surprise he spun me around quickly before catching my waist in his hands, my arms around his neck. I laughed hysterically; in preparation for the Met Ball I had tried to teach Erik some steps I had learned years ago when Susan had made me take a Salsa class with her. At the time Erik had found it more amusing to purposely do poorly in these impromptu dance lessons and frustrate me than to actually learn the steps.

But he had been listening better than he had let on. He spun, dipped, and twirled me among the confused waltz-ers. Normally Erik would have felt very foolish, but he reasoned that if we would be going back to New York soon than he should just do whatever he wanted.

I did feel foolish at first, but then I was having so much fun I didn't even realize what I was doing anymore. It didn't register to either of us that we had cleared a small space in the middle of the floor and some people had stopped to watch us. As the song ended Erik dipped me ridiculously low one last time before pulling me up and sending me hard into his chest.

He leaned his forehead against mine and we both started laughing. It took us completely by surprise when we heard clapping and looked around to see everyone watching us. It only made us laugh harder.

After this we were both asked another hundred questions; how did I dance in those shoes? In that dress? Where had we learned to do that?

As fun as all of it was, I was glad when the night came to an end. I was tired and I just wanted to be alone with Erik for awhile. It was actually sad for me when I said goodbye to Meg; she had become like a friend. I saw potential in her; she was talented with a wild streak. I had to admit I liked her.

In one amazing act of kindness, Raoul offered to take us all home in his carriage, saving me from having to walk to wherever the Persian lived in three inch heels. In a very round about way, Raoul actually offered to have Erik and I stay at his house for the night.

Erik had stared shocked at him. With a strange shiver, Erik realized that the feud between him and Raoul was truly at an end. However, Erik respectfully declined the offer. If, as he suspected, this was our last night here than he thought he should be at his faithful friend Nadir's apartment.

On the ride back to the de Chagny mansion I felt myself drifting off to sleep. I closed my eyes and leaned against Erik. Erik was tired as well, but he didn't feel like sleep just yet. He had to admit he was a bit stunned. Everything had gone so well. He had what he wanted and so much more. He had closure.

Raoul de Chagny sat across from him. He was staring at both of us. To him we seemed so peaceful together; Erik's arm was wrapped around me and I was sleeping on his shoulder. As he felt his own wife nestle against him he felt that finally everything was as it was supposed to be and the drama of the past was over.

For a moment Erik and Raoul's eyes met. They exchanged the smallest trace of a smile.

When the carriage stopped in front of the de Chagny mansion Erik shook me awake gently, "Do you want me to go in and get your other dress and you stay here or do you want to come in to?"

With a groan I blinked my eyes and got out of the carriage. Erik called back to the Persian that we would only be a minute.

We went into the house,

"God it is good to be home again," Raoul said contentedly as he re entered his house at last.

Erik waited in awkward silence with Raoul and Christine in the drawing room as I rushed upstairs to get my dress. As I ran through the house I took it all in as if for the first time; the grand stairs, the plush carpets and the lavish wooden furniture…

I wondered if I would be coming back. Would Christine and I be friends? Would Erik and I even stay in Paris? I still didn't know the second part of the gypsy's deal allowing us to go home.

Erik sat quietly across from Raoul and Christine. He didn't really know what to say to them. Christine didn't either. She felt like she owned Erik something, but she couldn't think of what.

Erik was glad when I returned with the dress. With out any real words we all walked back to the door. I hugged Christine goodbye and smiled at her. To his surprise and to Erik's slight discomfort I embraced Raoul as well. I didn't know what to say to Christine other than goodbye. If I had known that I would not be staying in 1882 I might have said more.

Erik and Raoul stared at each other for a few moments, wondering what to do. Neither of them hated the other anymore, but neither of them wanted to admit it. At last Erik extended a hand to Raoul, who shook it once before they both let go.

We had turned to go when Christine called out,

"Erik!" Erik turned in back to face her, He saw in her eyes that she was struggling with what to say. "Erik…congratulations," she managed at last.

Erik gave her a small smile and nodded his head before he turned back around and we headed for the carriage. As far as Erik was concerned he had seen Christine for the last time.

We reached the Persian's apartment some time later.

"Now," Nadir said when we were inside, "I am willing to offer you two the use of my bed for the night…mainly for your comfort Mademoiselle,"

Erik shook his head, "You don't have to do that, we can both sleep on the sofa,"

"Yes! We will be fine! You don't have to give up your bed!" I agreed with Erik. I took a look at the small sofa and I knew it was going to be a tight fit, something I was sure Erik was more than aware of, the wicked man.

"Well, if you are sure," Nadir looked from one of us to the other, "I think I will turn in…it has been a long day,"

I embraced him and thanked him for letting us sleep on his sofa before I asked him where the bathroom was. When I was gone for the moment Erik looked at his friend.

"I-I just want to thank you," Erik stammered, "For all you have done for me, and if I am not here in the morning…thank you,"

The Persian shook his head and embraced his friend. He stepped back and took a look at Erik, "I'm just glad to see that the man I knew you where has shown himself at last,"

Erik didn't know what to say, so he just nodded. They bid each other goodnight. In the dark living room of the apartment Erik whipped his eyes, knowing he had seen the Persian for the last time.

When I came out he was lying on his back on the sofa.

"Now how are we both going to fit on that?" I asked smiling.

Returning my smiled with a wicked grin, Erik slapped his thighs. Rolling my eyes I lay myself down on top of him. Immediately his hands moved to caress my butt…

"Erik, if you think I am going to have sex with you on your friend's sofa you are sourly mistaken," I whispered into his ear.

"If you didn't want to make love to me tonight darling than you shouldn't have worn this dress…and you also should have worn underwear," he said gruffly, running his hands up and down my bare back.

I had to admit it was heavenly to feel his touch again, but still…

"Erik stop it!" I laughed as one of his fingers tickled my side.

With an overdramatic groan of displeasure Erik stopped, "Fine…but I thought you were supposed to be easy," he teased me.

I hit his chest.

"Goodnight darling," Erik said to me, kissing my lips one more time. I rested my head on his chest and my arms lay around his shoulders. He had one arm wrapped around my waist and the other dangled off the sofa.

"Erik?" I said softly a few minutes later.

"Erik is sleeping," He grumbled.

"Two minutes ago you wanted to have sex and now you want to sleep!"

"I have mood swings," but he woke up to listen to me.

"Isn't this amazing Erik?" I asked him.

"What the sofa?"

"No!" I hit him again, "Oh never mind!" I laughed, to tired to argue with him.

I fell asleep shortly after this, but Erik found he could not. He just lay there on his back and listened as my breathing evened out. He lightly traced little circles across my back, more a subconscious act than anything else. In my sleep I let out a soft sigh of content.

Suddenly there was a voice next to Erik's ear.

"I sure know how to pick them don't I? I knew Olivia would be perfect for you,"

Erik nearly jumped out of his skin as he saw the gypsy man sitting in the chair next to the sofa.

"Jesus you scared me!" Erik said, looking down at me to see if I had woken up.

"I'm not Jesus Erik," The man said, "And don't worry about Olivia, she won't wake up,"

"What are you doing here?" Erik asked.

"I just wanted to congratulate you on your success," he said with a smiled.

"So we will be sent home like you said?"

"Back to New York 2005 yes,"

"Good," Erik stared at him, "Can I ask just who the hell you are?"

"Fate," The man said.

Erik blinked at the absurdity of the statement, but when he opened his eyes, the man was gone.

I knew I was dreaming. I heard a horn honking. I knew I was awake but the noise persisted. With a groan I lifted my head to see what was making the noise. I screamed.

I was looking out my own New York City apartment window. Beneath me Erik jerked awake as I scrambled off my bed and ran to my window. It was all there; my beloved New York City stretched out before me.

I screamed again and stared jumping up and down with joy. Suddenly from behind I felt a hand cover my mouth and an arm wrap tightly around me.

"_You_ are coming back to bed my dear," Erik's voice sounded in my ear. With a tug he pulled me back down on the bed. Pinning my body beneath his he hungrily pressed him lips to mine.

"Erik! We are back!" I yelled happily, and I was torn between wanting to make love and wanting to make a trip to 5th avenue.

Of course sex prevailed over shopping. I had almost forgotten how good he felt. It was heaven as I felt him undo my red dress and run his hands all over me. I ripped his expensive dress shirt off, sending buttons all over the bed.

His lips fell first on my own, slowly working their way down to my neck, then my collar bone…

When we came together at last I gasped out loud. This moment of extreme pleasure was worth the week apart, but I still knew I would never spend that much time away from him again.

We lay contently in bed for awhile. Erik was on his back and I was nestled between his arm and chest. In an odd stream of thought, I realized that for the past week I had not been taking my birth control pills…and Erik and I had just…so that meant there was a chance…

But I would worry about that later. After about ten minutes I shot out of bed and pulled Erik with me. He laughed as I enthusiastically insisted that we get showered and dressed.

I ran out of our room like a kid making for the tree on Christmas morning. Sammy jumped at me. I had never been happier to see that stinky mutt. After sufficiently licking me Sammy moved on to Erik. I turned on the TV…God bless TV! I checked the news…it was still Saturday…it was like that whole week had never happened.

Clean and dressed to the New York nines, Erik and I left our apartment with Sammy on the leash. We hit the sidewalk; I was wearing a blue vintage dress with a pair of Manolo's. Erik had never looked like he belonged in the city more with the trendy outfit I had picked out for him, a dog leash in one hand and me on his arm.

We walked down the road and I smiled at the large buildings like I hadn't since I had first come to New York City. Erik felt like he owned the whole city. Never had two New Yorkers been so happy.

And that was how it went. In the city of tall towers and four AM restaurants and little yellow cabs Erik and I lived our own urban legend. Falling in love with the one next door and not letting anything; cynicism which is so rampant, beach houses, shoes, ex's, friends…not even 125 year time warps come between us.

I chalked it all up to New York City; always changing so you can never live in the past, always awake to listen to your problems, and most importantly such a mix of all that is life that anything can happen. Anything; even a dreaded lawyer can find love…and yes, even a former phantom.


End file.
